


Your Enthusiasm is Appriciated

by Raicheru



Category: Bleach
Genre: Bondage, Dominance, Explicit Language, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-21
Updated: 2013-08-22
Packaged: 2017-12-24 06:31:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/936524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raicheru/pseuds/Raicheru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aizen has been struggling to find a way to bend Grimmjow to his will without breaking him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (Originally posted on FF dot net back in 2009.)

A stillness lay over the large room at the bottom of the stairs. Grimmjow had been here before an would most likely come again given his habit of speaking before he really thought about what he was going to say. He couldn’t seem to help himself. All the others worshipped the ground Aizen walked on simply because of who he was. Grimmjow was no one’s slave. Or so he kept telling himself.

“Come here Grimmjow.” Aizen sat in a chair at the far side of the room, his chin resting on his hand. Grimmjow remained motionless in the doorway. One last act of defiance before the reprimand soon to come. “It was not a request.” The words were soft and Aizen’s mildly indulgent expression never changed. But a sudden flood of spiritual pressure filled the room making it hard to breath. 

Grimmjow fought to stand under the onslaught. Sweat beaded on his skin, and he gritted his teeth. His legs shook with the effort until his knees finally betrayed him and he crashed to the floor. He had to fight for breath, his chest heaving. Another minute passed while he braced his hands on the floor and gasped for air.

“I’m still waiting.” The pressure increased slightly forcing a startled groan from Grimmjow. “Or would you prefer an audience?” Blue eyes widened in mild shock then narrowed as he drew a shaking breath. He knew the bastard would do it. He’d call everyone here to witness his punishment and they would never let him forget. That more than anything else forced him to move forward across the floor. 

He refused to let anyone see him grovel. It was bad enough that he was forced to yield like this. It couldn’t have hurt any more even if the plush carpet under his fingers had been broken glass. When he finally reached Aizen’s chair, the pressure was suddenly lifted. Grimmjow nearly collapsed in its absence as a gentle hand cupped his chin and tilted his head up.

“Why must we do this Grimmjow Jaegerjaques?” His voice was soft and had a wistful edge that bordered on disappointment. “You’re one of my best, but also the most troublesome.” Grimmjow said nothing. What could he say? That he hated the former shinigami? That he loathed the fact that he owed him anything? There were a dozen things that crossed his mind, but he didn’t utter any of them aloud. There was nothing he could say that wouldn’t earn him a harsher punishment. 

Aizen released his chin and moved to smooth unruly strands of blue hair away from Grimmjow’s temple. Equally blue eyes closed as he drew in a shaky breath. If Aizen noticed that the muscles in his jaw clenched near to the breaking point, he didn’t acknowledge it. He merely continued stroking his fingers through the soft blue locks. Grimmjow suddenly jerked his head away and aimed a vicious glare at the man seated above him. “I’m not a fucking pet!” His breath caught in his throat.

Aizen drew his hand back and stood. His expression was still mild, but the spiritual pressure in the room had risen again. “Stand up.” Grimmjow obeyed only after a moment’s hesitation that would probably cost him as much as the outburst. “So willful. I can’t let you question me so openly in front of the others. One rebellious spirit is all I have patience for. But I wonder.” His words trailed off as he walked around behind the espada as if appraising his worth. 

Grimmjow closed his eyes again only to snap them open when he felt his jacket sliding down off his shoulders. The garment was tossed casually aside and Grimmjow fought the urge to flinch as he felt cool fingers trace the Six tattoo on his bare back. “I’ll tell you a secret. You above all the others have been one of my favorites.” The fingers continued down and around the front of his hakama to loosen the sash at Grimmjow’s waist. “And I worry that if I break you, would you still be the same?” The white fabric pooled at his feet leaving him bare. Nudity itself didn’t bother him much. He was proud of his body knowing it was stronger than almost anyone else’s. But at the moment, he felt extremely vulnerable.

Aizen took Grimmjow’s hand and led him to the center of the room. “Kneel.” Again, there was that moment of hesitation. Grimmjow thought he heard a small sigh of disappointment as he settled stiffly on his knees. But it might have been his imagination. He jerked suddenly as a strip of fabric covered his eyes. “You don’t see the goal as others see it.” Grimmjow drew a breath to protest only to feel another strip of fabric press against his mouth. It was pulled tight making his mask bite into his skin. “Every time you speak, it’s against us.” 

He instinctively reached to removed the gag and blindfold but Aizen caught his hands. “You use the power I’ve given you, but it’s for yourself.” Grimmjow felt the silk of his sash being wound around his wrists. “What will it take to make you mine without destroying you in the process?” Setting the arrancar’s now bound hands in his lap, Aizen leaned down and pressed his lips to his forehead. “Think about it.” And then he was gone leaving the kneeling espada alone in the room. He could easily free himself, but somehow he knew he may not survive the consequences. So he sat fighting the urge to rip free of the bindings, waiting for Aizen to return. 

* * * * *

Grimmjow woke to find himself lying on something soft, but he didn’t remember falling asleep. A frown creased his brow as he felt the blindfold still pressing against his lashes. And he was still naked. His hands had been raised above his head, and a strong binding spell had been laid on the length of silk binding his wrists together. Twisting against the fabric experimentally, he found that he couldn’t break the spell or the cloth. He growled behind the gag. This was too much.

“Still trying to beat the world into submission?” Grimmjow stilled at the sound of Aizen’s voice. He was awfully close, but he hadn’t felt him enter the room. Maybe he’d been there the whole time. It was hard to tell. The surface he lay on dipped slightly to his right. “There are other ways to bend another to your will.” Grimmjow flinched when fingertips began trailing small circular patterns on his hip. 

Aizen’s other hand pressed flat against his abdomen right next to the hole in his midriff. The espada shifted restlessly under the touch. He had never realized how sensitive the skin next to the void was. But then he’d never had anyone pawing at him like this before. No one would have dared. Not being able to see made it that much more invasive. His muscles quivered slightly and he could feel himself becoming hard. 

Grimmjow tried to twist away, but the soft fingers at his hip gripped him with bruising force. “You’ll move when I tell you.” The soft voice carried the weight of steel behind it and the spiritual pressure in the room began to rise. He could feel it pressing down on him, the force increasing to almost painful levels. Beads of sweat broke out on his skin. 

The caresses continued making Grimmjow increasingly uncomfortable, but he held himself carefully still. He inwardly cursed his own weakness and hated himself for being at anyone’s mercy. His brooding was interrupted as Aizen removed the blindfold and tossed it aside. Grimmjow blinked in the sudden brightness. 

A quick glance revealed that he was in his own bed in his own quarters. Closing his eyes for a moment, he hoped in the name of any God that was, that no one had seen him as he was brought here. The others would never let him hear the end of it.

He looked down at Aizen who had settled into a position between Grimmjow‘s knees, trailing his fingers lazily over the espada’s nipples before roaming further down. The feather light touches were maddening in their arousal but too soft to bring any real release. Grimmjow let out a frustrated moan behind the gag. 

“I know. But you must learn patience and to stay focused on the final goal no matter how long it takes to get there.” Aizen’s voice, while soothing, was not telling the arrancar anything he wanted to hear. The former captain held his gaze while he bent Grimmjow’s left knee and shifted him slightly on the mattress. 

Blue eyes narrowed with suspicion. The espada had an incredible urge to kick his captor in the face. He was in the perfect position. One swift jab to the throat was all it would take. It wouldn’t free him from his captivity, but he knew it would be satisfying in the short term. But staring into Aizen’s eyes, he knew it would ultimately be a bad idea. As if reading his thoughts, Aizen continued.

“You’re smarter than the others give you credit for.” Grimmjow frowned again and watched him carefully. Aizen raised his hand and drew his raietsu, forming gleaming orbs of energy that swirled slowly in the palm of his hand. They pulsed with a soft light and crackled with contained power. When the energy settled, there were six of them in a row like opalescent pearls, each one slightly larger than the last. Grimmjow didn’t like where this was going. Apparently he was in the perfect position for. . .other things as well.

He wasn’t a naïve innocent and he knew many interesting and disturbing things that could be done to the human body with such an object. He tried to pull himself away, but Aizen’s free hand tightened and held him in place. He took the string of pearly orbs and brushed the end with the smallest sphere against Grimmjow’s entrance. He could feel the aura of energy before it even touched his skin. The espada winced in anticipation knowing there was no lubrication to ease the way in.

“Try to relax. If I was only interested in torturing you with pain and suffering, I’d be going about this in a different manner.” The frown returned. Being bound, gagged and molested in his own room wasn’t torture enough?

Grimmjow felt a soft popping sensation as it entered him. To his surprise, there was no pain. Apparently the energy of the item itself was enough. But the feeling fueled his already aching erection. Another entered, this one slightly lager than the last, and Grimmjow bit back a moan. Aizen drew one back out only to slowly push two more in. His entire body tensed, every muscle straining against itself with his desire to move and fear of the consequences if he did so.

The espada tried thrusting his hips to quicken the pace only to be pressed down by a blanket of heavy spiritual pressure. It held him immobile while the ministrations continued. He could feel his muscles stretching and contracting around each sphere and they were forced in and pulled out at relentlessly slow intervals. His breaths had become quick and shallow and his whole body flexed against the force that restrained him. 

With on last agonizingly slow push, all six spheres were inside of him. He could feel the pressure in his abdomen and groin. Grimmjow let out a low whine as Aizen drew his hand back and lowered his knee, leaving the item buried deep inside him. Leaning forward, he reached up to remove the gag.

“Take it out dammit!” Aizen watched impassively while Grimmjow’s whole body shook as he tried to free himself. With a casual wave of his fingers he changed the shape of the item in question. Grimmjow cried out as he felt it moving. He arched his back as much as the restraints would allow.

“What was that? I didn’t quite hear you.” 

“Take. It. Ouuunnnngghh!” Grimmjow tossed his head from side to side as it hit a sensitive spot and he was overwhelmed. Trickles of sweat dripped slowly down his entire body and his thrashed on the sheets.

“Your enthusiasm is appreciated, but you must learn how to use it effectively.” Aizen trailed a single finger up the underside of Grimmjow’s length, making him growl deep in his throat. The espada convulsively swallowed both the saliva pooling his mouth and a small part of his pride.

“Please.” Aizen tilted his head and raised a single brow in response. By this point, Grimmjow was exhausted from the effort of fighting, and his next words were a mere whisper.

“Please. My Lord.” The energy spheres dissipated suddenly leaving him feeling slightly empty in their absence. When the pressure was lifted and the spell released, Grimmjow lay motionless and looked up at Aizen. He felt he was on the verge of doing something disastrously stupid, and tried desperately to control himself. Stupidity was what got him into this situation in the first place. The moment lingered uncomfortably. Grimmjow was shuddering from the assault on his body. Finally, Aizen nodded. The espada wasted no time in ripping the silk binding his wrists. 

Rolling away from the other man, he unashamedly pumped himself to climax and collapsed on the bed. His heaving breaths were the only sound for a while. He could barely move. Grimmjow didn’t even have the energy to think about how vulnerable to attack he was right now. As soon as Aizen left him, which he undoubtedly would now that he had gotten his complete surrender, anyone would be able to take him down. Probably while he was sleeping. He tried to push himself up, but only managed shift his position slightly before collapsing again.

“Rest easy. No one will be able to enter until you wake.” He leaned down and brushed his lips across Grimmjow’s temple before drawing the sheet up to cover him. The espada felt nothing having lapsed into unconsciousness. Setting a shield binding on the doorway, Aizen watched him sleep for a few moments before quietly closing the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Aizen sat at his desk filling out paperwork. It was hard to imagine that even though he’d broken from the Soul Society, he couldn’t seem to get away from the same type of administrative work he did there. But he did have to admit, it was better being the one in charge rather than a lower tier worker. As a captain, he had been near the top, but there were still those who reigned above him including the Central 46. He smirked. Until he’d ended their session that is. Aizen wondered idly if they’d replaced them all yet.

A lesser hollow entered with another stack of forms. He sighed and handed him the ones he’d finished signing. The creature’s gaze darted from Aizen to the naked man that was lying on the far end of the enormous desk. He was on his stomach, his knees bent so that his feet were up in the air. The bindings holding his ankles tight had a line that ran to his bound wrists, restricting him in a tight hogtie. His face was turned away, only the back of his head visible where a gag had been carelessly knotted in his blue hair. The steady rise and fall of his back as he breathed was the only sign of life.

Aizen followed the hollow’s line of sight as he gestured for him to leave. Grimmjow had been so quiet, he’d almost forgotten he was there. Pushing the stack of paper aside, he stood and stretched, arching his back. The bones along his spine popped one by one before settling. He’d been sitting too long. Strolling to the end of the desk, he tangled his fingers in the silky locks. The arrancar jerked suddenly and let out a small groan. Aizen nearly laughed. He’d been asleep all this time. No wonder he‘d been silent.

“I’m not sure what I’m going to do with you.” Grimmjow tried to turn his face away from him, but Aizen’s grip tightened and held his head still. He settled for closing his eyes instead. No matter what the former captain did, this one couldn’t seem to stop testing his authority. Usually in front of others. It was like he wouldn’t allow himself to bend for anyone no matter the cost of his actions. It intrigued Aizen as much as it annoyed him. There were times when he had no patience to deal with it like the day before. On the surface, his expression had never changed but he was inwardly furious. He hadn’t even been able to calm down enough to restrain the espada himself. Which was why he’d spent the entire night on his desk in this position. He hadn’t really given specific instructions to the ones who dragged his unconscious body away. They’d just been told to bring him to Aizen’s office and make sure he stayed there. The other arrancar could be quite petty when they were given an opening to hurt each other. 

Carefully loosening the knot from his hair, he pulled the damp fabric of the gag out of Grimmjow’s mouth. He swallowed and licked his lips before looking up at him. The blue gaze, while not exactly filled with hate, was not entirely friendly either. His eyes were shadowed with exhaustion, dark circles spreading from under the blue markings. They watched each other for a few moments.

“Well?” Grimmjow’s voice was a little hoarse, the terse request barely audible. Aizen’s brows raised, but he didn’t say anything. “Either kill me or fuck me or whatever it is you’re going to do. I’m too tired to care right now. Just let me stretch out first. My back and shoulders hurt like a bitch.” He looked away and rested his forehead on the wood of the desk, waiting for him to decide.

“Which would you prefer?” Blue eyes snapped up to look at him in surprise. Grimmjow swallowed again before saying anything. 

“I’m not really in a hurry to die.” But I don’t want to be under you either. He hadn’t spoken that last part, but it was clear in his gaze. A shadow of something that might have been fear ghosted over his face and was gone just as quickly. Well, not fear exactly, more like apprehension.

“Yet you can’t seem to stop yourself from testing my patience. Why is that?” Grimmjow wasn’t really sure what to say. Tell him what he wanted to hear, or what he really thought? There was no telling which answer would piss him off or appease him. What he said instead had him closing his eyes and waiting for the killing blow.

“Like you’ve never chafed under authority. Isn’t that why you’re here in the first place, because you couldn’t stand the idiots you used to work for?” Grimmjow clenched his eyes shut and pressed his face into the desk. There just didn’t seem to be any filter between his brain and his mouth. But strangely enough, he wasn’t dying like he expected. The room echoed with Aizen’s startled laughter. Grimmjow wasn’t sure he liked that any better. He flinched when a hand rested on the back of his neck. It would be easy for him to finish it with a squeeze and quick twist. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this vulnerable before. With the exception of the last time he’d pissed Aizen off of course.

The bindings suddenly released him and his limbs flopped gracelessly against the surface of the desk. Grimmjow couldn’t help crying out as his cramped muscles strained and blood flow returned. The maddening prick of pins and needles flooded his entire body and he shivered. He pushed himself slowly up, placing his feet gingerly on the floor while his torso still lay on the desk. He hadn’t realized how he’d presented himself until he felt the fabric of Aizen’s robes brush the back of his thighs. He froze where he was, fully aware that he couldn’t stop him if that’s what he wanted. Hands griped his hips and Grimmjow held his breath waiting for him to do something. Aizen felt the figure beneath him tense under his fingers. It would be easy. But that wasn’t really the point. Tracing a lazy fingertip along Grimmjow’s spine, he watched his entire body shudder under the light touch. Not yet.

Grimmjow nearly collapsed as Aizen moved away and left the room. Standing cautiously, he looked for his clothes. He frowned when he saw the tattered heap in the corner. Petty bastards. It wasn’t Aizen’s work. He had more style than that. Whoever it was, they were lucky he was unconscious at the time, otherwise their rooms would be his next stop. Stretching briefly, he strode from the room with as much dignity as he could muster. His own quarters weren’t far away. He needed a shower and a nap. Not necessarily in that order. 

Running a weary hand through his hair, he considered his options. If he just bent knee to Aizen, this wouldn’t keep happening. Eventually, he’d tire of the game, kill him and be done with it. But Grimmjow couldn’t bring himself to do that. He was no one’s hound. He wouldn’t give in even if it was the safest choice. He’d rather be dead. The thought stirred his anger, and he set it aside for the moment. He was too tired to deal with philosophical bullshit right now. Shoving the door to his rooms open, he took a quick, scalding shower and dried himself before falling into bed without bothering to dress. 

He dreamed. It was vivid and sensual even though the images weren’t clear. Gentle touches sent ripples of sensation along his skin as something hot and wet pressed itself against his neck. He growled low in his throat not wanting anything to touch such a sensitive part of his body. Offering up your throat or belly was for those with no spine. Or a death wish. As he thought that, a caress along his abdomen made the muscles quiver and he arched his back. He let out a small strangled sound. It was dark when he opened his eyes, the only light coming from the crescent moon that seemed ever present in Hueco Mundo’s endless night sky. Grimmjow jerked suddenly awake when he felt the weight of the body kneeling above him. He tried to push him away, but his hands were held against the mattress on either side of his head. Snarling, he bucked his hips trying to throw him off.

“Why do you always fight me?” Aizen’s voice in the darkness made him still his movement, his breath heaving from the aftermath of the dream. Which apparently hadn’t really been a dream at all. Aizen’s hands trailed up his chest. Tugging his arms, Grimmjow found that he was still held fast by something unseen. Most likely a binding spell. Another growl rumbled in his throat. There was a sigh above him and Aizen leaned down, pressing the length of his body along the captive espada. He wasn’t wearing anything and the touch of skin on skin made Grimmjow shift on the bed a little. 

“It’s true, I was dissatisfied with my former position before I came here.” A small frown creased his brow as if he hadn’t meant to say it aloud. Aizen smoothed his expression before continuing. “But everything is a choice. You chose the power I offered you in return for your obedience to me. The others made the same choice. Have you changed your mind?” Grimmjow just stared at him. He was really starting to hate all of this. Never before had he had to make decisions like this. It used to be kill or be killed, and the simplicity of that was all he ever wanted. Aizen’s offer had merely been a shortcut to his own goals no matter how simple they may seem to some.

“I said I’d follow you, not lick your damned boots. The rest of those pussies can go to hell for all I care.” Again, his mouth betrayed him. Instead of responding, Aizen sealed his mouth over Grimmjow’s lips. The espada let out a startled grunt as a strong tongue invaded his mouth, dominating his own before he could push it out. He closed his eyes, his anger fighting against the pleasurable sensation. Ripping his face away, he turned his head and panted for breath. He was no one’s whore either. 

Fingers trailed along his cheek, a tender gesture that made him clench his jaw. Being nice to him wasn’t going to ensure his obedience any more than torturing him would. Aizen watched him as he sat up, setting his weight back on the arrancar’s thighs. He couldn’t seem to figure him out. Most of his other followers considered Grimmjow to be rather simplistic. But he was actually one of the most complex people he’d ever met. There was more going on inside his head than they gave him credit for. Digging his thumb lightly into the curve of his pelvic bone, he watched his uncontrolled response. Aizen smiled. At least his body was easy to manipulate.

While he considered himself above most mortal desires, for the moment he was still just a man. Albeit a powerful one. Moving back a little, he gripped Grimmjow’s legs under his knees and brought them up against his chest. The espada said nothing, only the hitch in he breath betraying his surprise. Aizen pushed two of his fingers into Grimmjow’s mouth, swirling them around a little before pressing down slightly on his tongue. He had expected him to at least try to bite but he kept his jaw relaxed, his eyes closed. Pulling his now slick fingers away, he moved his hand down and pressed them against his entrance, forcing them past the ridge of muscle. 

Grimmjow tried to withdraw from the intrusion, a small sound escaping his throat. He didn’t want this. Not again. It probably wouldn’t bother him as much if it didn’t feel so good. His eyes snapped open as he felt Aizen pull his hand away and position himself. The former captain was watching him as he pushed himself in. Grimmjow winced a little. This wasn’t some manipulation of energy that he was being screwed with. He tugged at the restraints, his breath quickening as his eyes glazed over a little. Aizen leaned forward, cradling Grimmjow’s folded body in his arms as he started to move. The espada couldn’t do anything but groan and throw his head back, pressing into the pillow beneath him. 

His own erection was thick and hot, his reaction to the other man unavoidable. Sweat broke out on his skin, chilling in the open air. Tossing his head and flexing his toes, he could feel his own release building without even being touched. He hated that he was being affected that much. Their was a buildup of pressure within him as Aizen came, one last thrust hitting something that made Grimmjow jerk and cry out. It was enough to make him go and he felt warm liquid spurt across his chest painting him with his own weakness. He turned his face away as Aizen tried to kiss him and thankfully, he didn’t pursue it. Instead, he got up and dressed, taking one last look before leaving the room. 

Grimmjow didn’t move for a while. He lay listening to his own breathing surrounded by the scent of sex. Huffing out a breath, he got up suddenly and tore the sheets from the bed. Throwing the heap in the corner, he blasted them to ash with an angry cero. His heavy breathing had nothing to do with orgasm and everything to do with frustration layered with a sense of helplessness that he couldn’t stand. Calming himself, he went into the shower and let the water run hot. After scrubbing himself, he pulled on a clean set of clothes and came out to find that the bedding had been changed while he was in the bathroom. For once, he didn’t care that someone had come in without him knowing. It didn’t really seem to matter at the moment. Throwing open his door, he went out to find someone to fight.


	3. Chapter 3

Gin wandered into the main room to find Aizen sitting at one end of his throne, leaning on one arm of the enormous chair. He looked a little tired as he rested his chin on one hand. The other was casually threaded in the hair of the sleeping espada that was curled on the seat beside him. Now that was an odd picture and Gin raised a questioning brow. Grimmjow was covered only by Aizen’s outer robe, his clothes in a rumpled heap over to one side. His hands were tied with a partially torn length of black cloth, probably his sash. The other half was wrapped tightly around his mouth. 

Aizen caught the line of his gaze and looked down at Grimmjow. As far as restraint went, it probably looked rather insubstantial. But it was more of a symbol than anything else. He could easily hold him down with nothing but his power. And he wasn’t worried about him making a sound. Grimmjow had been uncharacteristically quiet, probably in an attempt to avoid drawing attention to himself in such a potentially public space. 

“That’s a rather dangerous plaything you’ve been spending your time with lately.” Aizen didn’t reply and continued to stare out into the room. “But I have to admit, he’s kinda cute.” He snorted. “When he’s sleeping anyway.” Gin fought not to jump as an azure eye cracked open to look at him. So, not really sleeping then. Gin wasn’t afraid of him, he’d just been startled. He’d never seen Grimmjow this silent when he hadn’t actually been unconscious. The blue eye closed again and the arrancar let out a small sigh. It was odd. To Gin, he looked rather. . .docile.

“Is there something you needed Gin?” Gin’s head snapped up at the sound of Aizen’s soft voice.

“Ah, no, not really. Just came to see what you were doin’.” He hadn’t really meant to find out ‘who’ he’d been doing. In the throne room no less. His ever present grin widened a little. “I’ll just be going.” Aizen watched him leave and went back to his thoughts. 

Grimmjow remained still as he listened to the other shinigami leaving. At least it hadn’t been one of the arrancar. He could care less what the these three thought, but the rest of the inhabitants of Las Noches would blatantly use this against him. Not that they hadn’t already. He’d been in the mood for a fight yesterday, and hadn’t cared who he got it from. But everyone seemed to be avoiding him for some reason. It wasn’t until he’d come across Nnoitra that the extent of his current position was made clear.

Even thought the fifth espada was technically ranked above him, Grimmjow knew he could easily hold his own in a fight against him. Nnoitra had seemed amused when he made the challenge and that had just pissed Grimmjow off even more. Nnoitra kept dancing out of his reach, not really bothering to fight at all. But of course, he couldn’t keep the reason to himself, being the bitchy little gossip that he was. 

“Sorry Grimmie. Can’t play today. Wouldn’t want to damage Aizen-sama’s newest plaything.” Grimmjow couldn’t stop the red wash that engulfed his vision and Nnoitra was suddenly forced to dodge a wave of ceros thrown in his direction. “Jeez. You’d think that getting laid would relax you a bit.” So they knew. He should have expected as much. Las Noches, for all it’s size, was a small place where word of mouth traveled quicker than the fastest sonido. Nnoitra leapt over a nearby balcony and was gone. 

Grimmjow was left with his burning anger and no one to take it out on. He slammed his fist into the wall, making it crumble. He looked at the cracked masonry with disdain twisting his face. No. Random destruction wasn’t what he wanted. He needed a person under his fists so he could envision the subject of his ire as he drove them into the floor. But no matter where he went, the reactions had been the same. If they didn’t avoid him entirely, they refused to engage in battle no matter how he tried to goad them. Nobody else had come out and said why, but he still knew. Aizen had probably ordered them not to fight with him for whatever reason he might have.

Leaving Las Noches entirely, he headed out into the desert of Hueco Mundo looking for something strong enough to sate his rage. After wiping out several mid-level hollows, he finally found something worth his time. The long serpentine body was bristling with spines, and its tail was fast and deadly. Not even bothering to draw his sword, Grimmjow leapt in with his fists and lashed out with everything that had been pissing him off lately. It went on longer than he expected and by the time the hollow’s lifeless body fell dead and started to fade away, he was covered in bruises and bleeding cuts. 

But while the anger had finally faded, his frustration was still present. A knot of apprehension had coiled in his gut a while ago. He wasn’t sure exactly when it had started, but he just couldn’t get it to go away. It kept him constantly on edge and left him feeling tired and drained. Taking a deep breath, he headed back, not really wanted to but knowing that if he didn’t, they’d just come looking for him. In the infirmary, Szayel clicked his tongue at the injuries when he saw them, but said nothing. Until Grimmjow got up to leave. 

“Aizen-sama wants to see you in the throne room.” Grimmjow didn’t react outwardly, but inside he was at least a little relieved that he hadn’t been asked to come to his room. He wasn’t sure he could deal with that right now. But when he arrived, the relief was short lived as he was quickly stripped and bent over the arm of the throne. The bastard hadn’t even said anything before dragging him up onto the dais. He’d been bound and gagged with his own sash and when it was over, he lay tired and exhausted from more than just the physical abuse. 

As Grimmjow’s breathing returned to normal, he felt the fabric of Aizen’s robe being pulled over him. He just closed his eyes and waited. There was nothing else he could do. It was then that the fox faced bastard had come snooping. He was always watching everyone on the monitors and most of the arrancar avoided him entirely. There was something inherently creepy about his presence. Grimmjow was glad when Aizen dismissed him.

The self appointed lord of Las Noches sat lost in thought as his fellow shinigami left the room. He was mildly perturbed with himself at the moment. He hadn’t called Grimmjow here for this and was surprised when he found himself ripping his clothing off and thrusting into him like some base creature with no thought beyond his own impulses and desires. While he wasn’t worried about hurting him physically, his advances weren’t being received well and he was a little dismayed by Grimmjow’s lack of resistance this time. He didn’t necessarily want him kicking and screaming, but the ever-present defiance that had always drawn his attention seemed to have dulled somewhat. 

Had he made a miscalculation and broken him already? Closing his fingers reflexively, he felt Grimmjow pull his head out from under his hand. Perhaps not. But he was still disappointed. In himself at least. It might be good to leave the espada to his own devices for a while. He had the strength to restrain himself for that long. Standing abruptly, he strode out of the room without a word, leaving the mildly confused espada watching him leave. 

Grimmjow had stayed still until Aizen had started to stroke his damn hair again. He hated that. It always made him feel like some sort of pet. He pulled himself away from his fingers, not caring what he would do in return. So it was a bit of an understatement to say he was surprised when Aizen just got up and left. Grimmjow waited a few minutes before moving just to be sure that he was really gone. Shifting a little on the seat, he found that he wasn’t being held by anything other than the fabric around his wrists and mouth. Ripping it away, he stood and pulled on his clothes, leaving the robe in a heap on the throne. 

He winced a little as new aches were added to those he already had. Looking down, he could see the imprint of a bruise left by the arm of the chair. It had made a horizontal mark directly over his hollow void. For the first time, he actually wished his jacket covered him more. But he’d be damned if he’d change anything because of this. Ignoring it, he went back to his own room. Showering and changing again, he stood looking at the bed and wondered how many times he was going to have to do this. Something had to change. He didn’t like the way things were going, but he wasn’t sure what to do about it. As he flopped down on the bed and buried his face in the pillow, he felt Ilfort come into his room with a quiet knock.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” Grimmjow didn’t look at him, glad that he wasn’t stupid enough to ask if he was okay. His voice was muffled by the fabric of the pillow.

“Just make sure everyone leaves me the hell alone for now.” The tall blonde said nothing and made a small bow before leaving and closing the door. Grimmjow could feel him standing there, probably guarding the entrance to his rooms. Not that it would stop Aizen if he decided to pay him a visit, but it would have to do for now. When he finally slept, he dreamed. It was a confusing mix of sensations and emotions he had no name for. A particularly strong feeling snapped him awake and he blinked in the darkness of his room. Remembering the last time he’d woken from a dream like that, he forced his eyes open and sat up suddenly. But as he looked quickly around, he could see that there was no one else there. 

There was a wavering sensation from the direction of the door. Grimmjow half expected Ilfort to come in and see if anything was wrong. Quieting his own flickering reiatsu, he lay back on the bed and focused on slowing his breathing to something more normal and relaxed. To his surprise, he was near hyperventilating. Since when had he ever been this skittish? He rubbed a hand over his face, feeling the jutting edges of his mask dig into his palm. It was a simple feeling and it calmed him a little.

His life had become so complicated. He stopped. The last thought made him pause for a moment and then he laughed out loud, the sound echoing off the walls. Life. His existence maybe, but there was nothing about him that resembled life. Hollows were the essence of death after all. The arrancar no less so. And regret too. Grimmjow had no memories of what had caused the root part of him to become a hollow. It was so long ago, he didn’t remember much of that time. Of course, he was a conglomeration of many hollows that had combined with other hollows to become what he was now. And why was he even thinking about any of this shit? This was getting way too esoteric and thought provoking for him. Ilfort had apparently lost some inner battle with himself because he stuck his head in the door with a mildly worried expression on his face.

“Are you okay?” Grimmjow turned his head to look at him merely raising his brows in a condescending look. So much for not being stupid. 

“Do I look okay?” Ilfort seemed to either ignore or not understand the sarcasm dripping from his words.

“Actually, you look tired. You never look tired.” Grimmjow looked at the ceiling. Was it really that obvious that something was wrong?

“It’s nothing.” His fraccion’s next words surprised him.

“We still consider you our king. No matter where we are or who we’re with.” Grimmjow’s response was almost instantaneous, his words sharp.

“Don’t say that.” When he looked over, he could see Ilfort clenching his jaw. “At least not in front of any of the ass kissers that infest this place.” He took a breath and actually considered his next words before he continued. Inwardly, he groaned. Wasn’t this what Aizen had been trying to do with him? Make him think before he opened his mouth? And the bastard wasn’t even around the see the irritating progress he seemed to be making. “Aizen is. . . not a forgiving person.” 

Truly an understatement. But something told Grimmjow that his was a special case. At least he hoped that he wasn’t going around screwing everyone and everything to maintain their obedience. He frowned a little. Now why did that thought bother him?

“Of course. Sorry.” The slim arrancar moved to bend forward slightly. Grimmjow sighed.

“Don’t bow. Just get out.” He heard the click of door and he closed his eyes. He didn’t enjoy change or being in situations that were beyond his control. And right now, he was in the middle of both. But a change to what? He didn’t really have and answer for that as he drifted back to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Aizen closed the door to Grimmjow’s room, Kyoka Suigetsu still cloaking him in the perfect hypnosis image of Ilfort Gantz. That had been unexpected. Was his espada actually learning to think before speaking? Hard to imagine really. He’d always been brash and rather mouthy. Aizen had always felt mostly amused by it. He wasn’t sure when that had shifted to irritation and then outright anger. He had mixed feelings about that. When it came down to it, he didn’t really want Grimmjow to change. He liked him just the way he was, or at least the way he used to be. There had been a miscalculation somewhere on his part and he wasn’t entirely sure how to remedy that. He’d have to do some thinking on this and try to find a solution. 

Heading down the hallway, he kept a hand on his sword as he strode through the passageways of the palace he’d claimed as his own. Most of the main structures had been here long before he arrived, but he’d added his fair share since then. He didn’t hold onto his weapon due to a need for security, but it did anchor him in a way. Recently, he’d begun to feel a little detached and lost. Or maybe just unfocussed. That was odd for him and he wasn’t sure if he liked that. Closing his eyes for a moment, he let the illusion drop and he felt the air around him shimmer a bit. Aizen wasn’t sure why he’d snuck into Grimmjow’s room just now. He’d promised himself that he would leave him alone for the time being, but he found it to be harder than he thought. Why was he so fixated on him? He certainly wasn’t the strongest being in his army or the most clever really. But there was something that drew him. Something inexplicable. Maybe that was why it bothered him so much. He’d always been able to quantify his surroundings and himself. That wasn’t entirely the case anymore. Sighing, he went back to his own rooms to rest. He needed time to think about this.

* * *

Grimmjow woke feeling tired and he let out an aggravated huff as he scrubbed his hands over his face. He’d hoped that sleep would take the edge off his frustration but he was left feeling dissatisfied. He let his hands drop to the mattress. When he realized they had fallen on either side of his head, he got up immediately. That position was far to close to the one he’d been pinned in the other day. Couldn’t even spend time in his own damn bed without being reminded of that.

Shaking his head irritably, he dressed and got something to eat. He wasn’t exactly sure what to do with himself. He was still restless, but none of the others would fight him now. And he didn’t feel like going out into the desert again. He’d just gotten the feeling of sand off his body and he was in no hurry to change that. But he needed to do something. The war was still a ways off and there was nothing currently that needed to be done. All this waiting around was just damned boring. There was nothing to do here. Nothing to take his mind off of the sensation of being pressed down into the bed with rather skilled hands exploring. . . He blinked. He needed a good fight one way or the other. Anything to take his mind off this.

Grimmjow wandered the halls aimlessly, his hands in his pockets and a sullen look darkening his features. He wasn’t really paying attention to where he was going, so when he found himself in a room he’d never been in before, he was mildly surprised. Las Noches was a huge place and there were plenty of areas he hadn’t seen yet. He’d never really cared enough to really explore before. But this place was a little different. It had a wide balcony with a view of the city and he went over to take a closer look. There was a single chair facing outward, but he didn’t take notice of it as he passed and leaned on the railing. It was quiet for a while and he felt an aura of calm settle over him. For the first time, he didn’t have unwanted thoughts crowding his head. It was rather refreshing.

“It’s a rather impressive view isn’t it?” Grimmjow jumped before he could stop himself and whirled around. Aizen sat in the chair watching him. Had he been there the whole damned time? Why hadn’t he felt anything? He inwardly cursed himself. Probably because he hadn’t bothered to look. He’d let himself get distracted and that would get him dead. Or worse. 

Aizen watched his espada lean back against the railing as if relaxing. But he knew every muscle was coiled tightly and ready to spring. He was rather surprised when he’d felt Grimmjow coming in this direction. Judging by the startled look on the arrancar’s face, he hadn’t expected to find anyone else here. Aizen wasn’t entirely sure why he himself was here either. This room was far away from his quarters, or anyone else’s for that matter. He occasionally came to this spot to think when he felt the need to be alone. His initial destination had been his own room to get some sleep, but he’d veered off at the last moment to come and reflect.

“Why?” Grimmjow was glaring at him from the railing, the entire city spread out at his back. He paid it no notice as he wathced his lord and master and waited for his answer. Aizen’s brows went up slightly.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to be a little more specific.” Was he asking about his comment on the view? Why Aizen had been paying him such intimate attention lately? Or was it something else entirely?

“Why have you ordered everybody not to fight me?” Aizen tilted his head to the side, his expression thoughtful.

“I can assure you that I gave no such order. Your own internal battles are no concern of mine as long as they don’t interfere with my plans.” As a matter of fact, they served a double purpose. Battles between arrancar kept them occupied and at the same time, they weeded out the weak. Many of the current espada had gained their positions through such fights. Aizen rested his elbows on the arms of the chair and steepled his fingers as he watched Grimmjow mutter to himself.

“Then why. . .? That stupid, lying bastard.” Nnoitra had implied that was what had happened. No, he wasn’t lying. Not really. He was just a coward. Not wanting to get on Aizen’s bad side by beating on his current plaything. Along with every other damn arrancar he’d come across the last couple of days. Well, they could all go fuck themselves. Grimmjow turned to look out at the city and clenched his fingers on the railing. They must be rather high up. Everything looked so small from up here. He heard a rustle of fabric as Aizen stood and realized that turning his back on him might have been a mistake. But the former captain came to stand at his side and made no move to touch him. Which was just as well. Grimmjow was so stressed out right now, he was likely to attack him.

“This is my favorite place. Do you know why?” Grimmjow snorted and didn’t bother looking at him.

“Because everybody looks like ants from up here? Isn’t that why you’re doing this, because you want to be a God?” Aizen rested his hands on the rail and smiled a little. Not too far from the truth. 

“Is that any different from your desire to be King above all others?” Grimmjow swallowed. How the hell did he know that? He closed his eyes as he considered. Because the man knew everything. That’s why he was in charge.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m still under you.” In more ways than one, he thought miserably. But Grimmjow knew his own strength was no match for his. At least not yet.

“And you don’t want to be. Is that correct?” Grimmjow finally turned to him, an incredulous look on his face.

“Have you been paying attention lately?” He bit his lip but continued on anyway. If he was going to die right now, might as well tell the bastard exactly how he felt. “I can’t stand being lesser than you. Being lesser than anyone. And every time you put your damned hands on me, I’m just a thing. Something to play with and distract your attention for a moment. I hate it and I hate you!” He stopped, his breath heavy in his chest.

“Please don’t underestimate your worth. You would not be here if I did not think you were special.” That was not the answer that Grimmjow had expected. Of course, the fact that he wasn’t a bleeding heap on the floor was a surprise too. But he could feel himself getting angry again.

“Do you honestly think pretty words will make me feel better?” Aizen turned to face him, that thoughtful look still on his face.

“And what would it take? To make you ‘feel better?’ It was never my intention to make you miserable in the first place.”

“No, you just want me to grovel at your feet like everyone else. Which isn’t going to happen. Ever.”

“I could make you.” 

“And it wouldn’t mean anything. We both know that.” There was a quiet sigh from the former captain.

“Indeed. And there we have our problem.” Aizen turned and started to walk away leaving Grimmjow watching him, his mouth a little open in shock. He was just leaving? What the hell was that? They hadn’t settled anything yet. It wasn’t what Grimmjow had been aiming for when they first started talking but now that they’d started, he wasn’t going to let him just walk away without a real explanation.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. Aizen paused and looked over his shoulder.

“Don’t think for a moment that I won’t strike you down for your constant insubordination.”

“Fuck that. If you were going to kill me, you would have done it a long time ago.” Aizen turned all the way around now but made no move to get closer.

“Really? You’re that sure of yourself?” He wasn’t really, but he wasn’t dead yet.

“And it’s not just because we’re alone now. It wouldn’t matter if everyone were here. You don’t care about their opinions or what they see.” He snorted. “They all think I’m crazy anyway.”

“And are you?”

“For following you this long, probably.”

“And yet, no one keeps you here. The doors of Las Noches are open to anyone who wants to leave.”

“Don’t think I won’t.” The thoughtful look turned to one of amusement which pissed Grimmjow off even more if that were possible.

“And where would you go? I can’t imagine that you’d be satisfied with anything you might find in Hueco Mundo. As aduchas, you at least had a goal to gain more power. What would you do with yourself?” Grimmjow hated that he was right. But it wouldn’t stop him from leaving if that’s what it took. Would it?

Aizen watched him from where he stood a few feet away. This was not going well. He really didn’t want the arrancar to go, but he wouldn’t order him to stay. That would most likely ensure that he left immediately. And he wouldn’t stop Grimmjow if he tried to leave either. It would just bank the fires of distrust and hate that had seemingly been burning for quite some time now. They had such a delicate relationship here. Now those were two words he never thought he’d use in reference to the volatile espada. But it was true. It was a fragile bond between them and he didn’t really know how to make it stronger without fracturing it completely in the process.

The tension started to rise as they faced each other quietly. Aizen waited to see what Grimmjow would do. Grimmjow was waiting for Aizen to say something. Their attention was so focused that neither really noticed the lesser hollow that entered the room even though they were both aware of its presence. It crouched uncertainly, watching the two of them locked in their silent battle. 

Grimmjow’s patience started to crumble, and he hated himself for it. But if he stood here much longer, he was going to say or do something that he would most likely regret. He flickered out of sight suddenly and used a sonido to launch himself off the balcony. Backing down infuriated him, but he couldn’t think of anything else as he plummeted to the ground below. Not bothering to slow his fall, he landed hard, the impact sending up a huge column of sand and debris. And then he was running, not really caring where he went. Just running, the mundane use of his muscles a calming simplicity that helped settle him at least a little.

Aizen calmly walked to the balcony railing and watched him go. He sighed. Grimmjow wasn’t going to leave Las Noches. At least not yet. The lesser hollow waited quietly, knowing better than to speak before being spoken to. Aizen ignored him and left the room. Whatever it was could wait. He was suddenly very tired and need to be alone. The hollow was left feeling a little confused, but was afraid to follow after him. But it couldn’t go back without an answer. Torn between the initial request and the apparent dismissal, it remained kneeling in the empty room long after everyone else was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

Grimmjow was floating. He couldn’t say he minded really. At least the listless feeling was better than the pain. It had hurt so much he could barely stand it. But that had faded to this indistinct, detached feeling which was more bearable. Until someone tried to touch him. That brought him up out of the fog enough to feel. Cut edges and abraded scrapes alongside the sear of burns all scrubbed raw by the grit of sand. He reached up and blasted away until the touching stopped and he was allowed to drift again. He didn’t have much energy left but it seemed to be enough. For a while. 

There were a jumble of words, half of them laced with fear. Fear of him. Good. Maybe they’d leave him the hell alone. But there were other, less timid voices that seemed to be commanding the smaller ones. There were hands on him and he couldn’t push them away fast enough. He heard the words ‘restrain’ and ‘down’ which pissed him off. Who the fuck did they think they were? A pinch and a spreading numbness. It crept from his arm toward the rest of his body and he fought. He couldn’t be nothing again, and the numbness seemed to leave an emptiness in its wake. If it engulfed him totally, would he reduced to just a memory? A scream tore out of his throat as everything faded away.

* * *

His next thoughts weren’t any clearer than the last. But at least he still existed. The fear of fading into nothing was still hovering at the edges, but he’d pulled himself up from the abyss this time. He’d do it again if necessary. But the floating was less comfortable now than it had been before. He felt like he was choking on something and he didn’t seem to have command of his body. And the rest of him ached dully like he’d been squeezed by a giant hand until he’d cracked everywhere. Another pinch and darkness again.

* * *

It felt like every time he became aware, he was more tired and fatigued. And it hurt more. The dull ache had become a sharp throb and he shifted where he lay. His limbs responded this time, but they were held down by something. And it was so bright. He couldn’t raise his hands to shield his suddenly sensitive eyes. Through a half lidded gaze, he could see the fuzzy edges of shapes nearby. One became steadily larger than the others as it got closer to him. Grimmjow tried to open his mouth to tell it to go away and he coughed on something that seemed to be in the way. It went all the way down his throat, an invasion that he didn’t have the energy force out. He could hear speaking but it sounded like it was far away. Like hearing sounds underwater.

“Awake?” Grimmjow made a small strangled sound and jerked in the binds that held him. “Stop killing my assistants and then maybe.” The shape faded away again and Grimmjow let himself fade with it.

* * *

He woke feeling awful, but much more aware than before. Grimmjow wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. He could feel two other people in the room with him. This time, the words were clear and he kept his eyes closed as he listened. “At least he’s breathing on his own now.” Another voice joined it.

“Not sure why you had to bother. If he was stupid enough to get that close to being dead, I say let him die.” Someone clicked their tongue.

“Watch your mouth. He’s special, so get over it.” There was a grumbling reply. “Say that again and I’ll let him loose and lock you in with him. I’m sure he’ll be happy to have someone to take out his apparent frustration on.” Both voices were suddenly silent as a third presence entered the room. There were mumbled apologies followed by ‘Aizen-sama’ before they retreated entirely. Grimmjow would have groaned if he didn’t think it would draw attention to himself. He heard a chair being pulled close.

“I thought you weren’t in a hurry to die.” Aizen’s voice sounded a little tired, the usual condescending amusement missing for the first time Grimmjow could remember. Figuring that it was useless to pretend to be asleep, he opened his eyes. They felt heavy and slightly swollen as he took in his surroundings before looking over at the man sitting beside him. He was in the infirmary strapped down to a bed that was elevated slightly so he was almost sitting up. 

It wasn’t a place he spent much time even though he earned his share of injuries. He didn’t like having others tend him so he usually took care of himself. He frowned. But he’d been here recently after fighting that hollow. Right before he was summoned to the throne room. He nearly closed his eyes again but he wouldn‘t let himself. He felt the need to watch Aizen just in case he decided to do something. Not that he could stop him, but it was the principal of the thing. Grimmjow still wouldn’t give up fighting. Aizen seemed to be waiting for him to speak. But when he opened his mouth, his dry throat made him cough. It felt raw and abused like it had been scrubbed forcibly with a brush. 

A glass was held to his lips and the silky glide of cool water made him sigh in relief after he’d taken a small sip. His voice was a rough whisper when he spoke. “I’m not.”

“You could have fooled me.” It was coming back in flashes, the events that led to his current state. Ulquiorra. Grimmjow nearly snarled when he thought of him. He couldn’t stand the bastard. Always doing exactly what he was told and staring at everyone with those lifeless eyes. He had no passion and for some reason that just pissed him off. The glass was offered again and he shook his head. He’d run so hard from the man seated next to him and now here he was right back where he started. Sort of.

When Ulquiorra had stepped into his path, he’d intended to go around him. He really had. Until the asshole kept intentionally getting in his way. Well, he’d wanted a fight. And it had been a good one. But ultimately, there was a reason that Ulquiorra was rated fourth and Grimmjow was sixth. He hated to admit it, but he was better and just a little faster. Grimmjow looked down at his left hand. The whole arm was wrapped in bandages nearly to the shoulder. He’d tried to stop a cero with that hand and nearly been seared to the bone. 

Aizen watched as Grimmjow curled his lip at a seemingly distasteful memory. The entire left side of his face was a healing bruise that was various shades of green and yellow. The colors clashed horribly with the vivid blue of his hair. When he’d sent the fourth espada out that day, he’d known how it might end up. Ulquiorra was very precise and the only one he figured could handle it. He’d followed Aizen’s orders to the letter and given Grimmjow the fight he’d wanted while not landing a killing blow. But the culmination of the other injuries he’d meted out had nearly cost Aizen his sexta espada. He’d shamelessly exploited the dissonance between all of his arrancar during his time here. Some more than most, and those two were definitely more. More gifted, more prideful, and by far more scathing in their contempt for each other than any of the others. 

It might not have come so close if Grimmjow hadn’t been so damn stubborn. Aizen smiled a little. Even bleeding and half broken, Grimmjow had obliterated seven of Szayel’s assistants before the rest had flatly refused to get near him. It had taken nearly an hour to get close enough to tranq him so he could be treated. And even when they’d finally subdued him, it had taken quite a bit to keep him down. Aizen eyed the restraints for a moment before reaching forward and releasing them. 

Grimmjow watched him silently and lay still for several minutes before trying to move. He still hurt everywhere. It had been reduced to the dull ache but it was as if every square inch of his body were one giant bruise. He could feel the tight skin along his jaw when he grimaced and knew it was most likely scabbed over. Reaching up to place a hand on his head, he felt the wrap of fabric around his brow and pulled it irritably away. He was getting tired again just from being awake. But he really didn’t want to be here anymore. And it didn’t really have anything to do with Aizen. He hated this place. It stank of pain and chemicals.

Surprisingly, the other man didn’t say anything as Grimmjow painfully pulled himself up and swung his legs over the opposite side of the bed. He winced when his feet hit the cold floor but he was pleased that he actually managed to stand. Unfortunately, his legs didn’t seem to want to carry his weight. There were suddenly arms around him that kept his body from crashing to the floor. He ended up lying against Aizen with the other man holding him in his arms. Grimmjow hissed through his teeth, the sound much like an angry cat spitting at an opponent. He wasn’t wearing anything beyond the bandages that seemed to be holding him together. There was a hand on his forehead that felt cool in comparison to the fever that heated his skin. 

“You really shouldn’t be up yet.”

“Then why’d you let me loose? Only way I’ll stay’s if you tie me down again.” Grimmjow’s voice had taken on a slurred, petulant tone and he hated it. “Don’t like it here.” He was getting dizzy and was afraid he was going to pass out again.

“I can take you somewhere else if you like.”

“Don’t like you either.” Aizen sighed. There weren’t a whole lot of options available that wouldn’t piss Grimmjow off. He wasn’t well enough to be left alone right now but it was obvious that making him stay here would just be more trouble than it was worth. There was another mumbled demand. “Let go.” He smiled a little but didn’t comply.

Grimmjow noted that Aizen’s grip on him didn’t change at all. But then why would he listen to him? He was in no position to make demands. Was that really any different from how it always was? He let out a little sigh that made him wince as his ribs sang with the movement of his breath. Too tired. Too hurt. He didn’t have the energy to deal with it right now. And running wouldn’t get him anywhere. Not that he could even walk at the moment. So he decided not to worry about it and let himself fade again. Let them do what they wanted.

* * *

He was warm and comfortable when he woke this time. Well, as comfortable as he could be with what were obviously broken ribs making his breaths ache. But it was manageable. Opening his eyes, he could see the expanse of a large bedroom. But it wasn’t his. As far as he could tell, he’d never been here before. But there was something that felt familiar about it. As he woke fully and his mind cleared, he felt himself sink a little. The whole place was saturated in Aizen’s aura. He was in Aizen’s room, lying in Aizen’s bed with Aizen coming in through the door carrying a large tray in his hands. Grimmjow clenched his jaw only to wince and open his mouth in a stretch when the initial movement sent a zing of pain up behind his ear. He would rather be back in the infirmary. Well, almost. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been beaten to shit and left for dead only to be irritated back to consciousness again.” Aizen set the tray on a bedside table and sat on the edge of the bed. 

“Does that bother you?”

“What bothers me is that you keep trying to manipulate me. I’m not stupid.” Grimmjow had been slipping in and out of consciousness for the past couple of days and he’d been thinking during his brief moments of lucidity. Ulquiorra had appeared rather conveniently. At the time, it felt good to be active and doing something that didn’t require any thought beyond survival. But now it just pissed him off.

“The last time we spoke, you were complaining that no one would come out and play with you. You’re rather fickle and seem to change your mind at a moment’s notice.” 

“What do you want with me?” There was no answer Aizen could give that wouldn’t make him angry. While he enjoyed Grimmjow’s fire, his constant irritability was a bit of a nuisance at times.

“You belong to me, but you’re not mine. Not the way I want you to be. I’ve been trying to figure out how to change that.” Grimmjow’s eyes narrowed.

“Get your fucking head examined. I’m not interested.”

He gasped as Aizen’s hand shot forward and his fingertips curled around the edge of his mask fragment. Grimmjow was jerked up off the bed into a reclined sitting position and he had to brace his weight on his hands. Every ache he had flared to life and he closed his eyes, his breath hissing out between his teeth. He was no masochist and the constant pain was wearing him down. Aizen put a hand behind Grimmjow’s back and gently lowered him to the bed as he let go of the mask. He let out a deep sigh as he trailed a light touch down the arrancar‘s arm.

“Eat something and then get some sleep. You look awful.” Grimmjow opened his eyes to watch him leave, confusion twisting his already pained features. He turned his head to look at the covered tray. The scent of food pulled at him, but he almost considered ignoring it just to spite him. But that was just stupid. He would expect that. Or would he? Grimmjow shook his head and immediately regretted the movement. Thinking like that would just drive him crazy. He finished the meal before curling up on the bed and letting sleep claim him again.


	6. Chapter 6

Grimmjow spent much of the next few days sleeping. He’d never had such a long recovery time before and he couldn’t be up for long periods without getting winded. But the bruises were slowly fading and the cuts closing cleanly. The faint burn scarring was smoothing out which was surprising. When he was fully healed, there would be no marks left behind, the fight itself only a memory with really nothing to show for it. It was a sobering thought to realize just how close he’d really come to dying. 

Grimmjow propped himself up on the bed and took a mental inventory of his remaining injuries. His ribs seemed to be the last thing to trouble him. He was thankful that nothing else had been broken and he could at least walk on his own. He’d seriously considered going to his own room as soon as he was able, but somehow he knew he’d just end up back here again. Or in the infirmary which would be worse since he hated it so much. He blinked. He could have sworn that Aizen’s room would have been the place to receive that particular honor. 

Aizen had been spending a lot of time with him during his recovery. He didn’t speak to Grimmjow much and had never actually tried to touch him which was a good thing. Grimmjow would most likely have taken off if he had. No, Aizen just sat quietly in a nearby chair, usually reading. Occasionally, he’d woken up to find the soul reaper watching him sleep. That unnerved him a little, but he’d just roll over and ignore him. Aizen had brought him all his meals, but had allowed him to change his bandages himself. At least he could do that on his own. And there were fewer needed every day as things healed. 

Grimmjow had just woken from a rather intense dream. All color and sensation, the memory of it still skittering over his skin. He shrugged the feeling off. There had been a lot of those while he’d been sleeping lately. Of course, there was nothing his could remember clearly but they always left him feeling heated like he’d been running. To or from something, he couldn’t say.

Flipping back the blankets, he set his feet on the floor. The chill against his toes made him wrinkle his nose and he pulled the plain white robe tighter as he stood. At least he wasn’t naked in Aizen’s bed. He’d demanded his clothes soon after he woke here the first time and this was all he’d gotten. He snorted. Better than nothing. Aizen wasn’t actually here for once, the room empty except for Grimmjow and the furniture. He looked toward the door, half expecting to see him enter. But after a few moments of waiting, he was still alone. 

Grimmjow made his way into the shower and let the hot water soak away the rest of his aches. There weren’t many now and he was actually starting to feel normal again. When he stepped out and grabbed a towel, he saw that a clean uniform with his customary short jacket lay neatly folded next to the sink. It hadn’t been there when he came in. Extending his senses, he could tell that the bedroom was still empty. He hated that Aizen could move around like that without him knowing. Because it had been him. That much he was sure of. 

Grimmjow merely sighed and dressed, doing his best to leave the bathroom in disarray before finally leaving. He needed to get out and do something after being cooped up in here for so long. Not that he knew how long it had been really. Stretching, he felt his joints pop and his muscles strain at the now unaccustomed movement. Definitely needed to get out. He left Aizen’s rooms and wandered a ways before he finally got his bearings. This area was actually pretty far away from the some of the main buildings as if the lord of Las Noches wanted to set himself apart somehow. He did that just by existing here. 

As far as Grimmjow knew, no soul reaper had ever attempted what he was doing now. For that matter, there had never been a unified force here either. At least not one with a common set of goals. Shaking his head, he started to jog, warming up his tight muscles before doing anything more strenuous. Grimmjow gritted his teeth at the thought of the work ahead of him just to get back where he was. They had some pretty high end healing techniques here, but he’d avoid their practitioners if he could. He didn’t like them touching him. He didn’t like anyone touching him really.

His speed increased as his irritation rose. Nobody in their right mind would try to lay hands on him except for one person. And he couldn’t do anything about that one. He headed to the end of a long hall that had a windowless opening at its end. Leaping to the sill, he sailed over the edge to land far below in the sand. It absorbed some of the impact but not all. He could feel it sing up his back to settle at the base of his skull and he winced before continuing. Every few steps, he’d flip forward onto his hands or throw his weight sideways to vault off the surface of a nearby wall. He needed to move. 

Grimmjow was pushing himself and he knew it. Maybe if he was exhausted enough, the dreams wouldn’t bother him. He built a cero in his hand and threw it. The directionless blast landed not far away, creating a huge crater and sending up a plume of sand. He stopped and braced his hands on his knees, his breaths heaving. His ribs were starting to hurt again and sweat trickled down the length of his body. A small voice in his head told him to be careful. If he made himself pass out again, he’d end up waking up somewhere he didn’t want to be. He was already tired and it pissed him off. Trudging over to a low wall, he curled up in the sand at its base. He pulled in on his spiritual pressure as best he could. Let them find him if they could. 

* * *

Aizen stepped across the sand lightly, his approach making no noise. But he doubted Grimmjow would wake even if he had a trumpet to herald his arrival. The clearly exhausted espada lay with his knees drawn up to his chest as if protecting himself from something. Aizen drew closer and knelt at his side. Brushing a damp strand of damp blue hair off his forehead, he sat in the sand, not caring about the state of his clothes as he did so. He rested a hand against the line of his jaw, his fingers curling slightly against Grimmjow’s skin. He made a small noise in his sleep but didn’t wake. 

Aizen nearly laughed to himself. Since when had he been reduced to stealing touches while his quarry slept? Not very godlike to be sure. If this was all he could have, it might make sense but he could take what he wanted. It just wasn’t enough. He wanted more, but he wasn’t sure how to get it without driving Grimmjow away completely. Watching him recuperate without touching him had been difficult and a serious exercise in self control. As if hearing his name in Aizen’s thoughts, Grimmjow shifted in his sleep, his breath suddenly catching. The former captain stilled but relaxed again when his eyes remained closed and his breathing evened out.

Aizen stroked his fingers gently down the other man’s cheek. His skin was so warm in comparison to the cool bone of his mask. There was a fine patina of dried sweat on his skin. He’d been pushing himself so hard before he finally collapsed. Aizen had been mildly worried when he practically flung himself out the upper story window. But he should have known better. This one would still be fighting even if his body had gone and given up on him. Sighing, Aizen closed his eyes and held his hands out. There was a slow build of power as he used kido to heal the minor damage he’d done to himself. But not too much. He left enough ache for Grimmjow to feel like he’s accomplished something. Anything more would leave him suspicious and probably angry. Left to his own healing factor’s abilities, which were pretty impressive on their own, Grimmjow would most likely have taken twice as long to recover this much in such a relatively short time. Aizen had been helping him along as much as he dared without raising his suspicions. Which were on high alert at the moment. 

He smiled as he leaned down and kissed his temple. Grimmjow made a soft noise in his throat and curled tighter into himself. Even the best predator knew when it had become the prey. Aizen would just have to make him realize he wanted to be caught. Standing slowly, he brushed away evidence of his presence and flash stepped away. He could be patient. It would be worth it to get what he wanted the way he wanted it.

* * *

Grimmjow blinked open his eyes and dug his fingers into the sand. So much for making himself too tired to dream. That had been a vivid one. He’d half expected to see Aizen looming over him when he woke. What the hell had he done to make the soul reaper become so obsessed with him? Nothing specific came to mind. He’d done nothing but buck under his authority from the beginning and he made it no secret how he felt about his place in the grand scheme of things. Maybe that was enough to draw his attention but he’d done nothing to keep it locked onto him. 

Tracing idle patterns in the soft, white particles, he tried to think of a way to get his life back. Or at least his independence anyway. Again, nothing came to mind. He wasn’t a strategist or a grand thinker. Not stupid by any means, just not much of a planner. Grimmjow lived in the moment. And at the moment, he felt. . . pretty good actually. That was a little odd. He expected to feel much worse than this from the abuse he’d inflicted on himself. Pushing himself up into a sitting position, he groaned. Okay, so he still hurt a little. But that felt more normal than anything had recently. 

Grimmjow took a deep breath before getting up and heading to his room. He needed another shower. The space was just the same as it always was when he came through the door. But something felt different. He wasn’t sure what it was but he if it was really important, he’d figure it out eventually. When he was finished, he came out with just a towel hitched around his hips. His head snapped up at the sound of a knock on the door. It wouldn’t be Aizen. He wouldn’t bother to announce himself before entering. Reaching out with his pesquisa, he could feel the lesser hollow that was raising it’s hand to knock again. He snapped at it, not really wanting to be disturbed at the moment.

“What?” Grimmjow didn’t bother to go open the door himself. If they were going to bug him, they’d just have to get the hell in here. The creature was practically trembling as it poked its head in the door.

“Your presence is requested in the main hall.” Grimmjow heaved a sigh and the hollow ducked back outside as if it expected to be obliterated at any moment. 

“Tch. Figures. Just when I get back on my feet.” He dressed quickly and headed out, hoping that it was a full meeting with everyone there. There was a greater chance that he could actually stay on his feet and not end up on his back that way. Grimmjow grimaced. It was so much easier before he had to worry about crap like that. When he got there, he was relieved to see the others seated at the table. He could feel there attention on him even if not every face was turned in his direction. Screw them. He wasn’t going to blush like a schoolgirl. 

Flopping down in his chair, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and did his best to look disinterested in the whole deal. Which wasn’t too far from the truth. Meetings had never been his favorite pastime. They were long and boring with the occasional dose of mind numbing tedium. It’s not like Aizen ever told them anything they didn’t already know. News traveled as fast as gossip across the palace. And whether it was rumors or the real deal, everyone was pretty sure Gin was the source. Not that they’d ever say that to his face. Or Aizen’s for that matter. For all they knew, that was the way they wanted it. 

Grimmjow crossed his ankles and let himself slouch a bit. The hard chair was making his back ache. Everyone turned to look as Aizen finally entered and came to sit at the head of the table. There was a brief greeting and then some shuffling as everyone was given a cup of tea. Grimmjow did his best not to look like he was watching the man sitting at the head of the table. He blinked suddenly as something occurred to him for the first time. He was sitting at Aizen’s right hand. And always had been for as long as he could remember. Glancing around the table, he looked at where everyone else was seated. Placement didn’t seem to have anything to do with rank. He wasn’t really sure what to think about that.

Grimmjow wasn’t really paying attention to what was being said as he remained wrapped in his own thoughts. Soon, the meeting was over and nearly everyone had left. Except for Ulquiorra who was watching him from where he stood across the table from him. “Are you unwell Grimmjow?” Bristling, Grimmjow shoved his seat back and stood, doing his best not to groan as his back and ribs protested.

“Mind your own damned business.” Grimmjow stalked off. He couldn’t really remember what had been said during the meeting. Not that it really mattered. He would have paid more attention if it had anything to do with him. Grimmjow nearly paused before catching himself and continuing on. Aizen hadn’t even looked at him once. Was he bored already? He snorted. Fine. He could deal with that. Maybe things could get back to normal now.


	7. Chapter 7

Grimmjow wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, ignoring the blood that smeared his skin. He curled his lip and spat to the side. It had been three weeks since he’d left Aizen’s rooms. As he thought, it had taken some time to get back to the way he was before all that crap happened. So much damned work just to get back to his normal strength. But at least now he was able to take on just about anyone. As a matter of fact, he felt a little stronger now than he had been. At least it hadn’t been a total loss.

He frowned as he headed back to his rooms. It had also been three weeks since Aizen had acknowledged him in any way. And why the hell was he thinking about that? Isn’t that what he wanted? To be left alone? He hadn’t even had any of those dreams since his recovery. Which he should be grateful for. Pushing open his door, he nearly slammed it shut after entering. Grimmjow had been trying to ignore the empty spot inside him that seemed to be as vacant as the void in his abdomen. Not that he knew what was supposed to fill it to begin with. Maybe it had always been there and he’d just never noticed before.

He shook his head as he headed to the shower. He’d just been sparring with Nnoitra and he was covered in dirt an grime. Not to mention a fair amount of blood from various wounds. He took out the fully stocked first aid kit in his bathroom before letting the water run hot. The Fifth espada had suddenly decided that he was fair game again and they’d spent most of the morning trading blows. Grimmjow grimaced. He’d gotten the feeling that the other arrancar had just been playing with him. There was a lighter tone to the fight than he would have expected. If it wasn’t full out and for real, what was the damned point?

Sighing, he winced as he peeled his jacket off. The torn fabric slid down his back to land in a soiled heap on the floor. Playing or not, there were still a few things that he needed to tend to. But it was nothing he couldn’t deal with on his own. He’d been avoiding the infirmary as much as he could since his last visit. Aside from his general dislike of the place, he mostly wanted to avoid Szayel. Slithery bastard had been giving him knowing looks for a while now and he couldn’t stand it. Bad enough that everyone seemed to know. To have them rub it in his face was just irritating and it pissed him off.

Loosening his sash, he let his pants drop before stepping out of them and moving under the steamy spray. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, he let the tension in his muscles fade. He should be grateful really that he’d managed to go this long without being molested. His lip curled again. No he didn’t miss that part. He knew there were others that would do just about anything for that kind of personal attention from their ‘lord.’ Well, they could have it. He’d never wanted it and was glad it was over. Grimmjow paused before turning his face so it was under the fall of water. He let himself stand there, his hair slicked to his scalp and the last lingering suds sluicing down his body.

He was considered the most destructive and volatile of all the arrancar here. And he agreed with anyone who thought so. But sometimes it was the rare moments of solitary peace that he felt he enjoyed the most. Maybe it was the contrast between the quiet moments and the fight that made them both relevant. Whatever it was, he liked times like this when there was nothing and nobody but him. But then why not? He‘d been a solitary creature for so long as an adjuchas. But he rarely had any real time to himself anymore. Especially not outside of his rooms. Considering his background, he sometimes found it odd that he had more fraccion than anyone else. He snorted quietly. They’d been doing their best to stay out of his way lately. Not surprising since his mood had been touchy at best. 

Grimmjow frowned and stepped back to blink the water out of his eyes. He’d been having more stupid deep thoughts lately. None of this crap had ever occurred to him before and he wasn’t all that fond of it. Turning off the water, he smoothed his hands over his hair to get most of the water out of it. He felt the last trickles trail down his back before he stepped out and grabbed a towel. He rubbed himself down and slung the terrycloth around his hips before grabbing the first aid kit. There were only a couple of spots that needed to be bandaged. The rest he left to heal on its own. He didn’t scar easily, not that he’d care if he did. Every mark would be proof of survival. He was good at that. Surviving. 

After finishing, he headed out into the main room to get dressed. He left his ruined uniform where it was for one of the lesser hollows to deal with. Today’s fight had not been the first. It seemed that everyone had noticed that Grimmjow didn’t appear to be Aizen’s favorite anymore. It had pissed him off when no one would fight him before. When they were afraid of incurring Aizen’s wrath by damaging his plaything. Grimmjow scoffed. He didn’t need that kind of protection. But it turned out that being attacked and challenged every time he turned around was just as bad. It was one thing to seek battle and another completely when he couldn’t take a breath without blocking a blow first. He’d even had a couple of privaron espada trying to prove that they were worthy of their former ranks again. A feral grin stretched his lips as he remembered how he’d shown them differently.

Pulling on a clean set of clothes, he reached up to flick his fingers through his hair and allowed to settle as it normally did. He dropped his hands as he heard a knock at the door. “What?” His irritable snap usually scared off all but the most determined messengers. But when the door opened quietly, it wasn’t some lesser hollow on an errand. “What do you want Szayel?” If he wasn’t looking right at him, he wouldn’t have known he was there. It seemed he was masking his spiritual pressure for some reason.

“Now, now. No need to be hostile. I did knock after all.”

“I’ll knock a hole in your head if you don’t get the hell out.” Messengers were one thing and he barely tolerated them. But to have another espada in his quarters, and a lower one at that, grated on him. He took his personal territory very seriously and he didn’t have to put up with this shit.

“I just wanted to see how you were doing. You took quite a beating a few weeks ago. Back to full power yet?”

“Want to see first hand?” Grimmjow let his power build, the waves of it flickering in the air. The space was already saturated in his pressure since it was his. Adding to it nearly caused sparks. But the pink haired espada just smiled.

“Good. Nice to see you’re no worse for the wear.”

“I repeat. What do you want?” Grimmjow was just about to forcibly remove him.

“Everyone else has been challenging you lately. I didn’t want to miss out.” The smile widened.

“Looking for a promotion?” Grimmjow smirked. “You’re in the wrong place then. You got yourself dropped from the espada before. I had no idea you were in a hurry to have it happen again.” He let his power continue to build as he drew the power for a cero. It might destroy his room, but that could be rebuilt. Knocking the Octavo on his ass would be more than worth it. He’d never liked him anyway. But Szayel was still smiling and that was not a good sign. Grimmjow pulled back his hand to throw the bolt of energy and wipe the look off his face. But Szayel was already raising a small tube to his lips. He took a quick breath and let it out in a short puff. There was a sudden prick in Grimmjow’s neck and he felt the cero fizzle to nothing. What the hell? He reached up to pull the small dart from his skin.

“I never said I’d challenge you to a fight.” The words faded and became hazy as Grimmjow’s vision wavered. What the hell was that? He crashed to his knees as he tried to keep hold of his consciousness. But it slipped through his fingers and he slumped to the floor. Szayel tilted his head as he regarded the now sleeping Sexta, the smile never wavering.

. . . . . . .

Aizen strolled the halls looking unhurried as he always did. But underneath was a thread of nervous worry that was extremely uncharacteristic for him. He’d felt Grimmjow’s spiritual pressure rise and then suddenly bottom out. It had been peaking regularly these past weeks as the espada struggled to retain his place. But it had always been a constant no matter what level it was at. Aizen had been staying away from him for the most part. Something that proved to be much more difficult than he imagined. But right now, he needed to see him. Even if it unraveled everything. Part of him was mildly shocked that he felt so driven. After all, the arrancar were replaceable. Losing one of them wouldn’t lose him the coming war. And that was all that should matter.

He closed his eyes as he realized how wrong he was. At least about this one in particular. Grimmjow was different from the rest. He’d never felt himself drawn to any of the others so strongly. The only one that came close was Ulquiorra, but that was for totally different reasons. The Fourth espada was by far the most dependable and least troublesome. Not to mention his near unshakable loyalty. But with his quiet indifference, Aizen wondered idly if he would notice if he was gone. Shaking his head slightly to push away the questions he had no answers for, he continued toward Grimmjow’s room. Strangely enough, none of his fraccion seemed to be in the area. His lips quirked in a fleeting smile. They’d been on their toes around their volatile leader and were most likely laying low until he’d calmed himself.

When he reached Grimmjow’s door, he nearly hesitated before entering. It’s not that he felt the need to announce himself. The entirety of Las Noches was his domain and no one would deny him entrance to any part of it. And even if Grimmjow were conscious to do so, he knew better. Ignoring the thought, Aizen opened the door which was unlocked. There wasn’t even a shred of extra protection barring the way. That in itself was worrisome. Grimmjow had gotten in the habit or shielding his rooms so he’d at least be alerted when someone entered. Aizen himself could get around that easily enough without him noticing. Not that he’d ever tell the Sexta. Let him keep that mild sense of security. 

The sight that greeted him both reassured and surprised him. Grimmjow lay on the bed facing the far wall, his muscled body nude and straining against the ties that held him. His ankles had been drawn up with thick straps holding them tight against his thighs. And his forearms were secured to his body with more straps that threaded in and out of his hollow void. The gag in his mouth barely held in the quiet moans that echoed in the otherwise empty room. Aizen felt himself responding to the sight and sound of him as he shifted on the mattress. 

Coming closer, he could see that Grimmjow was sporting a rather impressive erection that was maintained by the strap wrapped around the base where it met his body. There was give where his arms were trapped at his sides, but the straps at his thighs were connected to a set of leather wrist cuffs that kept him from touching himself. The arrancar’s eyes were half lidded and even though Aizen had come into his field of view, he didn’t seem to notice. Grimmjow’s spiritual pressure was extremely low at the moment. Earlier, Aizen had feared that it had disappeared completely. After recovering from his initial surprise, the lord of Las Noches narrowed his eyes. There weren’t many that would set up something like this. 

Closing his eyes, he felt out for traces of who might have been here. It was faint and he would have missed it if he wasn’t specifically looking, but he could sense the telltale traces of the Octavo. He had peculiar tastes and Aizen left him mostly to himself. A small, rueful smile graced his lips as he considered his own preferences which were not exactly mundane. In the long run, as long as Szayel’s activities didn’t interfere with the greater plan, it didn’t matter. But Aizen’s first reaction after he considered the situation was anger that the other arrancar had dared touch what didn’t belong to him. Aizen forced himself to relax a little. In actuality he’d done this himself by distancing himself from Grimmjow and thereby giving the others free reign to engage him in whatever battle they wished. 

Coming forward to kneel on the bed, Aizen trailed his fingers over Grimmjow’s bare thigh. The espada jerked on the bed and groaned as if he’d just noticed the presence of someone else. His skin was hot to the touch and his muscles trembled under Aizen’s hand. That coupled with the unfocused dilation of his eyes pointed toward some kind of drug. When it wore off, he would most likely be able to free himself. Aizen could feel his own arousal growing as Grimmjow continued to struggle weakly on the bed. He could see and feel that he seemed to be relatively untouched. Which is all that was keeping Szayel breathing at the moment. Distance or not, the pink haired espada fortunately seemed to know better than that at least. 

But despite his own insistent arousal, Aizen felt himself hesitant to take Grimmjow as he was. Not that he didn’t appreciate the view. He was practically being offered up to him like some sort of gift. But it wasn’t something he could accept. Not like this. In his current state, Grimmjow probably wouldn’t remember it anyway. There was no recognition in the clouded azure gaze that was fixed on him. Aizen stroked his cheek gently and sighed when the arrancar nuzzled his hand. This wasn’t really him. There was no fire in his eyes aside from the unnatural glint of the drug that was coursing through his system. It seemed that no matter what Aizen did, he couldn’t get what he really wanted. 

Reaching for the buckles on the straps, he began untying him. Grimmjow licked his lips when the gag was removed, his tongue lingering before he pulled it back into his mouth. He arched his back and cried out softly Aizen removed the strap from his arousal. But when Grimmjow reached for him, Aizen placed a finger against his temple and sent out a small pulse of power. The arrancar grunted and went limp as the sleep spell forced him under. Better to let the drug take its course while he was unconscious. Swallowing hard, Aizen was suddenly at a loss. What was he doing? Lusting after one of his men who didn’t appreciate the attention was getting him nowhere. And forcing him to give in held no real interest. He’d tried that approach and was dissatisfied with the results. But ignoring him wasn’t much better.

Pulling the covers up over Grimmjow‘s unconscious body, Aizen lay down next to him on top of the blanket. Sighing deeply, he reached out and brushed a stray strand of blue hair away from his forehead. For a powerful man that could have anything that he desired, he seemed to be denied the only thing that he really wanted for himself. The one thing that had nothing to do with power or position. Watching the other man sleep, he stayed long after he should have taken his leave.


	8. Chapter 8

Grimmjow ripped himself out of the sticky grip of sleep though sheer force of will. He was breathing heavy when he finally opened his eyes to stare wide-eyed at the ceiling. Hazy memories made him blink as he tried to shuffle through them. Someone had come into his room. And then . . . nothing. Sitting up slowly, he surveyed his surroundings. There wasn’t anything that seemed out of place. Until his eyes came to rest on the heap of his discarded clothing. Sure enough, he looked down to see himself nude under the sheets. Which wasn’t all that surprising. He rarely wore anything but his mask when he slept.

But it wasn’t that particular image that brought other things floating to the surface of his muddy memory. His eyes traveled a few feet further to take in the loops of the straps that lay empty and forgotten. Grimmjow’s lip curled. Szayel. He remembered now. The asshole had ambushed him in his own damn room. And from the look of things, he’d played with him while he was high on whatever had been on the tip of that dart. Grimmjow’s fingers trailed to his neck to feel the small swollen spot. Gripping the covers tightly in his clenched fingers, he imagined the havoc he would wreak on the pink haired espada’s lair. And they thought he was destructive before. 

But when he flipped back the blanket to get up, he froze. There was an all too familiar scent that had wafted up from the disturbed fabric. Aizen had been here. In his bed. While he’d been hardly aware of his own name let alone capable of offering at least a token amount resistance. It hadn’t been Szayel’s hands on him then. It had been Aizen. The thought sent a strange little thrill through him even as the beginnings of fury curled in his middle. Probably sent Szayel to incapacitate him first. His vision blurred as his anger surged up to fog his eyes. 

Just when he thought he was being left alone. Rational thought eluded him as his rage engulfed his common sense. It got to the point that he couldn’t even remember exactly why he was so angry as a blinding drive took over. His whole body was shaking with it, his face flushing hotly. The small voice of reason in his head was trying to tell him his thoughts weren’t making much sense through the heat that nearly made him moan. He ignored it. But there was one thing that rose to the surface. 

He’d kill the fucker. 

He latched onto that one thing and held it tightly. Grimmjow didn’t care beyond that one thought as he yanked on his clothing, shrugging quickly into his jacket before heading out the door. He didn’t bother with his shoes. Barefoot, he tore across the compound with murder on his mind. It was hard to see past the red in his vision as he ran until his lungs burned. There were startled faces that flashed past him but he didn’t pay attention to anything beyond his anger. His steps created small craters in the floor as he passed. He needed to be there, to destroy Aizen with every fiber of his being. His body burned for it.

When he got to the door he was looking for, he nearly tore it off it’s hinges before leaping inside. Aizen was sitting up in bed, his legs casually crossed at the ankles with a book in his hands. His expression was calm as Grimmjow pinned him to the mattress with a hand on his throat. The espada’s fingers squeezed to the point where it had to be cutting off his oxygen. This was it, what he needed to do to satisfy the growing burn that was steadily eating at him from the inside. Like he might be incinerated if he didn’t complete this one task. Grimmjow growled low in his throat when he felt his body freeze in place against his will. He hung poised in the air as the spiritual pressure in the room rose. Aizen regarded him with a rather bland expression.

“It’s so nice of you to honor me with a visit. But it’s rather late.” Aizen watched Grimmjow start to tremble above him as he fought the hold on his body.

“What gives you the fucking right?” Grimmjow’s voice hissed in his throat, his anger so hot it was nearly choking him.

“To keep you from throttling me in my own bedchamber? Quite a few things actually.” Aizen placed a gentle hand on Grimmjow’s extended arm. The espada hissed and jerked violently at the contact. Much like a panicked, trapped animal that would bite the hand tried to free it. Aizen had felt Grimmjow wake and his resulting fury was not entirely unexpected. But when his reiatsu spiked and blew across Las Noches like an impending storm, he’d been mildly surprised. It was only a matter of moments before he’d broken the door down and burst into his room. 

But Aizen wasn’t thinking about that at the moment. There was something odd in Grimmjow’s eyes. A bright spark that twinkled unnaturally as he continued to shake in the throes of his rage. And the skin under his hand had a heated fever to it that he could feel radiating along his own skin beneath his robe. It had been long enough that the drug should have worked its way through Grimmjow’s system. Between his unnatural metabolism and high healing factor, things like that ran their course fairly quickly. Aizen had stayed in Grimmjow’s room as long as he dared knowing how he’d react if he woke to find him there. The azure gaze had the same edge that it had before. But instead of arousal, there was nothing but anger in the blue depths that were trying to drown him with their stare.

“Y-you. . .” Grimmjow trailed off, his breath heaving in his chest. He grunted hard as he was flipped off Aizen to land on his back beside him. Twitching and shaking, he struggled with everything he had. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t physically push back the force that held him. Raising his own power, he tried to use that instead. But it was like trying to use a match to fight a flame thrower. A scream of frustrated rage tore from Grimmjow’s throat as he arched his back. Aizen watched his head toss from side to side and feared that he might actually hurt himself. Shifting to kneel beside him, he gripped his chin firmly between his thumb and forefinger.

“Stop.” 

Grimmjow’s fever bright eyes tried to focus on his face, but they weren’t tracking quite right. The arrancar let out a small strangled moan, his breaths shuddering in his chest. His whole body started to shake until his eyes rolled up into his head and he went suddenly limp. Aizen placed his other hand on Grimmjow’s forehead, frowning at the heat he felt there. If anything it was actually starting to get worse. 

“Gin.” As if he’d been waiting for Aizen to call him, and he might have been, the other shinigami stepped quietly through the broken door.

“Wow, that was fast. I thought. . .oh.” Cutting of the lewd remark that was on the tip of his tongue, Gin tilted his head to the side slightly, his usual grin actually wavering a little. “Man, he doesn’t look so good.” 

Aizen ignored the comment. “Go get some ice. And some food from the kitchen with lots of water.”

“What am I, room service now?” Gin bit his lip and paled a little if that was actually possible. Aizen hadn‘t even bothered to look at him but he didn‘t have to. “Sorry. I’ll just. . .” He stepped back toward the door, pausing with his hand on the knob. But when he opened his mouth to speak, he merely closed it again quickly and did as he was told. 

Aizen didn’t watch him leave. He gathered the unconscious espada in his arms and took him into the bathroom where he ran a cold bath in the large sunken tub. It might possibly put him into shock but if he didn’t cool him down, Grimmjow ran the risk of burning up from the inside. Literally. Aizen frowned as he tried to sense the source of the problem. It wasn’t precisely a spell. That was something he could have dealt with. But it wasn’t entirely a drug so straight healing probably wouldn’t have much effect either.

Left to more mundane solutions, he stepped into the large tub and lowered Grimmjow into the water. He was mildly surprised that it didn’t start to steam on contact with the other man’s over heated body. Aizen let him slump back against the side, careful to keep his face above the surface. He wasn’t sure what impulse had pushed him into action but it would be counterproductive to let him drown at this point. It didn’t take long for Gin to return. There was a lesser hollow with him that was pushing a small cart laden with bags of ice. Aizen felt the temperature begin to cool as they were dumped into the water. 

Gin stood watching with a rather subdued look on his face. This was just so damned odd. He’d never seen Aizen quite like this before. Caring might not be the word for it but the emotion he was seeing seemed to be something like it at least. And for one of the arrancar. It was one thing to play with them. But to take it beyond that? He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Ultimately, the former captain could and would do anything he wanted. Gin really had no problem with that. He was along for the ride and was content to let things play out as they would. But his curiosity was certainly piqued here. Aizen flicked his glance in Gin’s direction for a brief moment as if silently asking him what he was still doing there. The pale man shrugged and took the hint, leading the hollow and the cart out of the room.

Grimmjow was being smothered with heat, his breath becoming short and irregular as he tried to pull in air through the suffocating warmth. Until it suddenly turned cold. The shock of it should have snapped him out of his lethargy. But he still felt weighed down by something. Pushing himself up out of it forcefully, he thrashed suddenly. A wave of water sloshed up over his face making him choke and sputter. He splashed up and tried to pull himself out of the water he seemed to be in. But he only managed to turn so he was draped over the side of the tub he didn’t remember getting into. 

Blinking water out of his eyes, he noticed that he wasn’t alone. Aizen knelt in the large tub with him. His robes were heavy with moisture and it looked like he’d decided to bathe fully dressed for some reason. Grimmjow could feel the sopping pull of his own clothes. The water was cold and he wanted nothing more than to sink back down into it. The top half of his body was still burning. He curled his fingers weakly as he rested his bare cheek on the cool tile of the bathroom floor. 

His eyes came to rest on Aizen’s throat where he could see the darkening shape of a handprint. His handprint. Shit, he didn’t dream that last part even though it was hazy like a long forgotten memory. He wondered idly why Aizen hadn’t killed him yet since he’d obviously tried to attack him. And in his own rooms Grimmjow noted as he wearily took in his surroundings. But instead of retribution or the haughty authority that he often wielded like a weapon, the soul reaper was watching him carefully. There was an odd expression on his face that Grimmjow couldn’t identify and frankly didn’t care to as his eyes started to close again. 

Through the lingering heat, he was bone tired. And he wasn’t all that inclined to fight the sleep that was pulling him down. He didn’t even flinch as he felt Aizen’s hands on his shoulders turning him and lowering him back into the cool water of the tub. Grimmjow let a small sigh escape him. The stubborn part of him hissed at the contact that he’d never wanted in the first place. Isn’t this what he’d been raging against earlier? He told it to shut the fuck up. A wet washcloth touched his brow and cool trickles of water slid down his face, pulling the heat away with them. It was actually kind of nice. Snorting softly at his own contradictory thoughts and behavior, he let himself slip under.


	9. Chapter 9

Grimmjow woke feeling warm but it wasn’t the burning that had been threatening to engulf him before. Shifting slightly, he felt the softness of the simple white robe he was now wearing beneath the sheets that covered him. He grimaced and wondered how many times he’d wake up to find that someone had undressed him while he was sleeping. No, not someone. Aizen. He could see him out of the corner of his eye from where he lay on his side. He was sitting on the bed beside him but he remained a respectful distance away. There was a book in his hands again but Grimmjow could feel his attention on him. It didn’t even matter that the soul reaper didn’t appear to be looking in his direction at the moment. Grimmjow thought about pretending to sleep some more but a wide yawn nearly made his jaw crack before he could stop it.

“You’re awake, I see.”

“No, just having a seriously messed up dream.” Grimmjow spoke without thinking but for the first time, he wasn’t really worried about the repercussions. Fuck him. If he was going to kill him, he would have let him die instead of dumping him in the tub earlier. And it had been that close. He knew the sensation of being near death when he felt it. Grimmjow swallowed and sighed. This was the second time he’d been pulled back from the brink and he still wasn’t sure why Aizen had bothered. Turning his head a little, he gave him a closer look. There was no trace of the bruise on his throat now. He could be wrong about all of it. Maybe it was just a dream.

“How are you feeling?” The question caught Grimmjow by surprise and he raised himself up on one elbow to blink at him. It almost sounded like he really wanted to know.

“Fine. I guess.” His lip curled. “Better than that asshole’s going to be when I catch up to him.”

“I’m afraid vengeance will have to wait.” If Grimmjow didn’t know better, Aizen sounded mildly amused. “The octavo is currently working on an assignment for me and won’t be back for a while.” At Grimmjow’s raised brow, he elaborated. “He’s collecting suitable hollows that could potentially be useful arrancar. But he needs to find at least ten before he returns.” 

Grimmjow sneered and lowered himself back to the mattress. So that would have to wait then. He almost smiled when he considered how he might do some ‘redecorating’ in the lab before Szayel got back. That would be good enough for now.

“Do you remember anything from before?” Again, Aizen sounded genuinely interested.

“Only the incredible urge to rip your face off.” Grimmjow let out the sarcastic remark without holding back. Now that he’d gotten away with it once, it seemed he couldn’t help himself. He looked up at Aizen and tried to gauge his reaction. But the amusement remained and if he wasn’t mistaken, the corner of the other man’s lips twitched in what might have been a smile.

“So nothing new then.” Aizen set the book aside and turned to him. Grimmjow snorted and hugged the pillow. He stiffened immediately when he felt a gentle hand on his hair. Aizen’s fingers brushed a few stray strands away from his temple as he kept his gaze trained on Grimmjow’s face. It was as if he was watching to see what the espada would do. Grimmjow held himself still for a few moments and then forced himself to relax. He wasn’t really sure what was different. Before, a touch like that would have made him snarl and snap. It was much too close to being petted like a dog for his taste. But aside from his initial tension, it didn’t bother him as much now. He sighed irritably. 

“Now what?”

“Now I have things to do. You can do as you wish.” Aizen rose from the bed and Grimmjow noticed for the first time that he was fully dressed. What the hell? After all that, he was just leaving?

“Wait just a fucking minute!” Grimmjow was instantly up and kneeling on the bed, his hand outstretched and clutching Aizen’s robe in a tight grip.

“Yes?” The lord of Las Noches turned slightly and raised an imperious brow as he flicked his gaze from Grimmjow’s hand to his face. The espada swallowed slightly but didn’t let go. That kind of look was usually accompanied by the crushing weight of Aizen’s spiritual pressure. And he could feel it hovering at the edge of his awareness, ready to fall when the soul reaper wished. But it didn’t.

“After all that, you’re just going to ignore me again?” And why did that thought bother him so much? Grimmjow didn’t have time to think about it as he suddenly found himself pressed down onto the bed with the other man on top of him. He hadn’t even seen him move. His robe had been pulled down to bare his shoulders and the fabric was cinched tight in Aizen’s fingers, holding Grimmjow’s arms tight to his body. 

“What exactly do you want?” The words were casual and light but there was an intense weight behind them as Aizen held his gaze.

“I was going to ask you the same thing.” Grimmjow hated that his voice was practically a whisper but he couldn’t seem to do much about it. There were several tense, silent moments before Grimmjow felt the barest touch of fingers on his cheek along the top of his mask. And then the weight was gone and Aizen was striding out the door like he’d never moved back to the bed at all. Grimmjow was left blinking after him. He clenched his jaw and huffed out a breath. What the hell was all that shit?

Getting to his feet, he stretched and was glad to feel that aside from a little soreness, he really was fine. He couldn’t quite remember much beyond what he’d told Aizen. He really had wanted to kill him at the time. And before that. . . He also remembered what had happened in his own room. But he hadn’t mentioned it at all and he wouldn’t if he could help it. He’d been hot then too, but it was a different kind of fever. And when Aizen had touched him then, it seemed to make his temperature rise. Grimmjow blinked again and inhaled sharply at the memory. He’d wanted him. Badly. But then everything went blank up until the point he’d come running over here in a murderous rage. He shook his head to clear it. That must have been some drug.

He went back to his room to get dressed. After pulling on a clean uniform, he went to Szayel’s lab and reorganized everything. Violently and all over the place. He grinned as a rather large set of shelves toppled over. The glass jars they held shattered as they hit the floor, creating an intricate pattern of broken glass and unidentifiable smeared objects that had once been their contents. The sheer mayhem of it seemed to ground him somewhat although not as much as he would have liked. But while pulverizing inanimate objects was not necessarily a habit of his, it was a passable substitute for their owner. He didn’t bother with Szayel’s fraccion or any of his assistants. That truly would be a waste of energy. Finishing the job with one last resounding crash, he brushed a lingering trace of dust from his jacket and shoved his hands in his pockets before walking casually out of the room.

After that, he wasted no time in finding his own fraccion. Nodding at them briefly, he headed off without a word. But they didn’t need him to say anything and they fell into step with him as left Las Noches entirely. If they were nervous, they didn’t show it. Except for D-Roy who kept flicking him quick glances. Until Edorad smacked him in the back of the head. Grimmjow didn’t pay any attention to them as he moved across the sand. He wasn’t sure why he’d bothered to bring them really. But he didn’t want to waste time sending them back even knowing they’d do what he told them without asking why. 

He wasn’t even sure why he’d come out here at all. He tried to pass it off as a desire to find a better hollow than Szayel would. But that was weak and he knew it. He wasn’t one for petty one-upmanship. If he wanted to show that he was better and stronger than the octavo, he’d pound him into the ground. And he wouldn’t even need to release to do it. But that wasn’t why he was out here either even though he found himself searching for the other espada despite himself. 

After hours of traveling and a few minor skirmishes with random hollows, he flopped down on a rock outcropping. None of his fraccion had said anything all this time. They loitered around a short distance away waiting patiently for him to take the lead again. It was just like their past when they’d traveled together as adjuchas. Grimmjow sighed heavily. But at the same time it wasn’t. They were all different for better or worse. And nothing would take them back to that time. Not that he’d want to go back. He was so much more powerful now than he had been then. There was a rustle of fabric as Shawlong came to stand at his side, his thin hands clasped behind his back.

“You’ve been lost in thought quite often lately.” Grimmjow grunted in response, not really knowing what to say to that. He knew he’d been brooding more now than he ever had been before. The comment was probably an opening if he wanted to talk about it. Not that he needed one. Or wanted to talk. But that apparently wasn’t all that was on the other arrancar’s mind. Shawlong always had been the chatty one. “The others seem to be giving you some difficulties.” He was most likely referring to the constant attacks from other arrancar since they’d learned that Aizen had apparently removed him from his favorites list. Grimmjow wasn’t so sure about that part now but he hadn’t been able to figure it out yet.

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

“I was not implying that you couldn‘t. But I wonder if you have noticed exactly why they seem to be fixated on you.”

“Hn?” Grimmjow tilted his body where he sat to look up at the figure standing next to him. “Aside from the fact that taking me down would move them up a notch?” Or several notches in most cases. “Not that they’d ever manage.” He snorted derisively and looked back out over the sand. There wasn’t much more to it than that really. Just more of the same. It had just been more hectic lately because they thought he wasn’t under Aizen’s protection anymore. Not that he ever had been to begin with. 

“While that would be true in their wildest imaginations,” There was a surety to the statement like it didn’t occur to any of Grimmjow’s fraccion that he could be beaten in a fight. The blue haired espada smirked quietly at that. Shawlong continued, his tone mild. “I believe the real reason is jealousy.” That had Grimmjow frowning. Jealous? Of what? Being Aizen’s plaything? He knew there were a few who would probably jump at the chance to be in that position. After all, power was attractive all by itself. That alone would draw them even if Aizen wasn’t attractive himself. A muscle in Grimmjow’s jaw ticked. 

“Maybe.” He didn’t really feel like getting into the particulars of this right now. Grimmjow stood and stretched. The others stirred restlessly as they readied themselves to follow. Fortunately, they didn’t seem to be following the conversation.

“It not really envy of your position with Aizen-sama if that’s what you’re thinking. Though that’s what most of the others may think as well, I believe it’s the influence you seem to have on him that they covet.”

“What?” Grimmjow had been about to take off and nearly tripped when he heard that last part. “What influence? He takes what he wants and then ignores me the rest of the time.” Grimmjow nearly bit his lip. He hadn’t meant to say that much even if it had been vague.

“It’s subtle and I wonder if he himself has noticed yet. But when he thinks no one is looking, his eyes are only for you. And I‘ve seen the intensity of his focus when he comes looking for you.”

“Looking for me? When? He’s barely acknowledged me in weeks.” Aside from their most recent interaction that is.

“He travels the entirety of Las Noches much more frequently than he used to. And more often than not, he walks by your quarters. Or have you not noticed?” 

He hadn’t really. But he hadn’t been spending much time in his rooms lately. He’d been wandering aimlessly himself, not knowing why exactly but unable to stay still for any length of time. 

“It’s something to consider," Shalong said solemnly.

“Whatever.” Kicking off with a sharp sonido, Grimmjow sped off across the sand. His fraccion were right behind him. Something to consider. He had no illusions about his supposed influence over Aizen. The man did what he wanted when he wanted and nothing Grimmjow did would change that. But he couldn’t help thinking about how careful the other man had been earlier. Like he was afraid of spooking him or something. He could have taken what he wanted easily. Grimmjow just didn’t know what that was anymore.


	10. Chapter 10

Grimmjow continued across the sand. He was getting closer, he could feel it. Szayel was close by with several hollows in his general vicinity. The Sexta narrowed his eyes and took a deep breath. He’d finally figured out why he wanted to find him in the first place. There were a few questions he wanted to ask but he wasn’t entirely sure he’d get straight answers. But even a half truth or an evasive reply would be better than trying to figure it out on his own. Even if it meant asking one of the most irritating people he had to deal with.

As he crested a large dune, he caught sight of a flash of pink. Szayel was tearing through the hollows pretty quickly. There were two that were on the ground nearby, seemingly wounded but not completely dead. Maybe he was testing them to figure out if they were strong enough. Grimmjow honestly didn’t care. That’s not why he was here. But instead of getting any closer, he waited in the background until he was finished. Szayel could be flighty at the best of times so he’d let him finish what he was doing before he tried to talk to him. 

Grimmjow’s fraccion waited patiently behind him, knowing better than to disrupt his focus. He turned to them irritably. “Take off.” They didn’t ask why or even give him a second glance. They just turned and did what he asked. Only Shawlong turned at the last minute to give him a slight nod before moving away. Grimmjow didn’t acknowledge it. He kept his eyes on the other espada. A short while later, all of the hollows were dead or captured. 

“Oi! Pinky. Got a question for you.” Grimmjow stuffed his hands in his pockets and slouched over, not wanting to let the him know how much he was interested in the answer. The other man turned and smirked in his direction.

“Nice to see you on your feet, Grimmjow.” There was a leering edge to Szayel’s smile like he knew more than he was saying. Grimmjow’s lip curled.

“So what the fuck was that exactly?”

“Did you come all the way out here just to ask me that?” Szayel’s eyes narrowed a little as he considered the man glaring at him. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were actually a little worried.”

“Not hardly.” Grimmjow sneered. He felt his power rising and didn’t bother to hold it back. The pink haired man raised a brow.

“Really.”

“What was that shit?” Grimmjow didn’t really want to tell him that he’d almost died because of it. He might already know that. But his reaction to the drug was really bothering him for some reason and he didn’t like the idea of it being used on him again. Not that he was afraid of death. But it had been way too easy to take him down. He felt his hackles rise just at the thought of it.

“A brilliant concoction of mine. Did you enjoy the results?”

“What the fuck are you talking about? Results? Why the hell would I enjoy being manipulated and forced to feel things?” Grimmjow shifted where he stood. That was part of his problem. Bad enough that his own anger got him into to trouble when he was provoked. But to have reactions forced on him seriously pissed him off.

“Is that what you think? No, no. It’s far more subtle than that.”

“Subtle!? I nearly ripped Aizen’s face off because I couldn’t help myself.” Grimmjow yanked his hands out of his pockets, his fingers clenching into fists.

“And yet you still breathe. I wonder why that is.” Szayel tilted his head to the side slightly, the smile still plastered onto his face. “But that wasn’t all, was it? What about before that?”

“What, making me go into heat like a fucking cat? Yeah, that was great. Really.” Grimmjow nearly choked on his own sarcasm and he forced his fingers to relax. This conversation wasn’t really getting him anywhere. And it brought up things he didn’t really want to think about.

“You think it was forced upon you. Something that wouldn’t normally have happened without my intervention.” The pink haired man threw his head back and laughed, making Grimmjow glare. When the other espada calmed himself, his smile was sly. “Oh, no. That was all you. I just added a little something to bring out your instincts.” At Grimmjow’s look of confusion, he continued. “You see, as arrancar, we gain back part of ourselves and regain a sense of self awareness that is lacking in lesser hollows. But in exchange, we lose that driving instinct. I was just wondering if I could bring some of it back.” His grin stretched. “And it seemed to work.” 

Szayel crossed his arms over his chest and considered Grimmjow with a thoughtful look. “It really was all you. The drug just brought your buried instincts to the surface. The anger I expected. But before that?” Szayel licked his lips, his lids lowering slightly in a somewhat heated look. Grimmjow swallowed uncomfortably and clenched his jaw to the point of pain. “You were calling for him, you know. And that was indeed a surprise.” Grimmjow saw red lick at the edge of his vision again as his anger rose. “You were practically begging for him to roll you over and fu-” 

Szayel flew threw the air as Grimmjow’s fist plowed into his jaw. The blue haired espada came down on him before he even landed and did his best to pound him into the sand. The other espada didn’t even bother to defend himself. When the initial wash of fury faded, Grimmjow stepped back. There was a coughing gurgle from the downed arrancar. It took him a moment to figure out that the fucker was actually laughing. Szayel rolled onto his side and spat a mouthful of blood. His words were a wet garble but were still intelligible. “Yes, rage and destruction are what I expect from you.” Amber eyes rolled up to regard Grimmjow with a certain amount of amusement. “The rest was just an unexpected bonus.”

Grimmjow could easily have killed him right there. Especially if he wasn’t going to bother to block his attacks. He wouldn’t even have to release to do it. Taking a deep breath, he let it out long and slow. That would be a waste. Despite his anger, there was nothing that he needed to prove to this one. Or to anyone for that matter. And there was nothing to gain from beating his body into a pulp on the sands. Tilting his head slightly, Grimmjow looked down at him. “You don’t have any more of that shit, do you?”

“Just a little. It’s very difficult to manufacture and I only had two doses in that small purple vial.” Szayel grinned. “Want to try the other one?” Grimmjow grinned right back, making the other espada pause. Amongst the jars that had shattered, there had been a small sprinkle of purple glass.

“I don’t think that’s an option anymore. You should tell your minions to take better care of your lab when you’re gone.” With that, Grimmjow turned and used a sonido to leave the area completely, leaving a sputtering Szayel behind him. Under the brief moment of smug satisfaction, Grimmjow was reeling inside. And he knew that Szayel had seen it. At least a little. If he was telling the truth, which he probably wasn’t, then that heat from the beginning had been Grimmjow’s all along. It had been a heady mix of lust and desire. And apparently, it had been directed at Aizen. A small shiver leapt up his spine and nearly made him stop. He didn’t want him. Not even on an unconscious level. But if it was his subconscious, how could he be sure of that? 

He shook his head and found that he had stopped after all. Feeling out, he could tell that Szayel hadn’t moved from where he’d left him and his fraccion were nowhere in the area. At least they hadn’t been around to hear any of that. They wouldn’t hold it against him but he would know that they knew. And that thought bothered him a lot. Grimmjow continued his trek back to Las Noches at a slow walk, not bothering to speed up at all. There was no hurry and no one would be waiting for him. 

Grimmjow closed his eyes. That wasn‘t right. If any of what Shawlong had said was true, Aizen would be awaiting his return. Not in a way that many would notice. He was more subtle than that. He was subtle about a lot of things. And devious. But some of his actions had been so damned direct that Grimmjow hadn’t even recognized them at the time. He’d passed it off as his superior taking what he wanted. Stopping again, he stuffed his hands in his pockets. Was it really anything more than that?

When he finally returned, he was tired. It was a bone deep weariness that pulled him down even as he walked to his room. He was beyond caring about anything aside from falling into bed and blocking out the rest of the world. None of it mattered right now. He wasn’t even sure what to believe. But before he got to his door, Grimmjow felt a familiar presence appear at his side. He chose to ignore it completely.

“You look tired.” Grimmjow just grunted in response, too fatigued to do anything but continue to his destination. He could feel Aizen’s eyes on him but he didn’t dare look. “Did you find the answers you were looking for?”

Grimmjow’s eyes darted to the other man who was regarding him with a calm look. Well, almost calm. There was something in his gaze that the espada couldn’t quite identify. Did the man know everything? Huffing a short breath, Grimmjow shrugged. He wasn’t sure about answers. There were more questions and he didn’t necessarily want answers to all of them. Of course, he hadn’t really known why he went out into the desert aside from wanting to find Szayel and maybe beating the crap out of him. His lip twitched slightly. It would probably take the Octavo weeks to recover everything that had been wiped out by Grimmjow’s fit of temper. Out of the corner of his eye, he could have sworn he saw Aizen smile. At least a little.

Aizen was curious when Grimmjow went out into the desert the day before and then he‘d been mildly worried. Which had surprised him. There was a brief moment when he thought the espada was just leaving Las Noches for good. But then it occurred to him that he was most like going out to find Szayel. Aizen almost regretted telling Grimmjow where he had gone. The Octavo, while irritating most of the time, served his purpose well enough and Aizen was in no hurry to replace him. Unless of course, he couldn’t hold his position. But that was another matter altogether. It appeared that Grimmjow had shown some restraint, since Aizen could feel Szayel’s presence out on the sands. 

The espada that was currently walking beside him was rather subdued and he did look fatigued. But it didn’t feel like the same confused defeat that had been plaguing him for the past few weeks. Perhaps he’d come to some decision within himself. And it didn’t look like he’d decided to try his hand at defeating his master. After their last encounter when Grimmjow had attacked him, Aizen had entertained the possibility that he’d finally snapped. That he’d had enough. But after the drug’s effect had passed, the Sexta had seemed almost disappointed when Aizen had got up to leave him by himself. Another surprise. Grimmjow was just full of those. At the moment, the arrancar almost seemed accepting of his presence. After not touching him for so long, Aizen was willing to test the theory if it got him what he wanted.

The lord of Las Noches had recently come to the conclusion that he was infatuated with the Sexta espada. He wasn’t entirely sure when it had occurred but that didn’t really matter. The real problem at hand seemed to be that he had control issues when it came to the other man. And that was something he wouldn’t accept within himself. But after disciplining Grimmjow that first time in such a personal manner and seeing him bare in all his well muscled glory, Aizen found that he wanted more. To see and touch him everywhere. He craved it. Of course, things hadn’t exactly gone as he’d planned. Grimmjow was much less accepting of his attention than he anticipated. But it made the espada no less alluring. 

There had been a long stretch of time when Aizen had fought with himself over how to handle the situation. Logically, he could take what he wanted. He ruled over everyone and everything here so it was all within his reach should he desire it. And control be damned. He was above reproach in all things. But he found the taste was less satisfying without some sort of participation from his quarry beyond. He didn’t mind a little resistance but the outright refusal had been a dissapointment.

He couldn’t deny that Grimmjow’s insubordination had been part of what made him attractive in the first place. That he wouldn’t back down even when he knew he should, was intriguing. But it made the balance difficult. Showing him favoritism would undermine his authority and upset the balance he’d finally manage to attain. But then he was the absolute ruler and none of that should matter. Aizen nearly shook his head at the contradiction of it all. He shouldn’t let it get that complicated. What he ultimately wanted was relatively simple. It was just a matter of whether Grimmjow would be willing.

When they stopped in front of a door with a large six stenciled on it, Grimmjow was suddenly unsure of what to do with himself. Should he invite him in? No. That was stupid. If he wanted to go in, there would be nothing stopping him. And did he even want the soul reaper to enter his quarters? There was a part of him that wanted him to stay despite everything. He was being such a contradictory bastard at the moment. But Aizen made the decision for him and pushed the door open before drawing Grimmjow almost gently inside.


	11. Chapter 11

Grimmjow closed his eyes when Aizen slid his jacket off of his shoulders. He shouldn’t be surprised really. Why the hell else would Aizen be lurking around this part of Las Noches? He still wasn’t quite sure how he felt about all of this. It was pointless to resist him because he could easily have what he wanted. But at the same time, Grimmjow wouldn’t just roll over and take it. That felt too much like he was giving up. For the moment, he just went with it and didn’t fight when he was maneuvered onto the bed. But after Aizen settled him on the blankets, he just sat back and watched the arrancar quietly. Grimmjow stared back, unsure of what he was doing. He found the scrutiny slightly unnerving. 

“What?” He propped himself up on his elbows, a frown furrowing his brow. But Aizen didn’t reply. He just held his eyes with an unbreakable stare. Grimmjow blinked and found himself unable to look away. He could have sworn he’d seen something cross Aizen’s gaze when he’d made his irritable comment. But it wasn’t anger like he would have expected. Or even annoyance. He couldn’t help but push. The sudden quiet was making him jumpy. “Are you just going to sit there staring or are you going to do something?” Grimmjow was suddenly pressed down onto the bed. The fleeting expression that had ghosted across Aizen’s face was suddenly apparent and Grimmjow’s breath caught in his throat.

Was that naked desire that was pinning him down more firmly than the hands on his shoulders? He didn’t have much more time to think about it as Aizen leaned down and licked a long line along his abdomen. Grimmjow grunted in surprise. The sound trailed off in a groan as he felt the graze of teeth against his skin. Aizen bit lightly at the edge of his hollow void and Grimmjow nearly arched up off the bed. He was so damned sensitive there. Even more so now than the first time Aizen had touched him. The tightening tingle traveled straight to his groin and nearly made his eyes roll back in his head. He thought he heard a quiet chuckle but he could barely tell through the pulse pounding in his ears. When had it gotten so loud? The weariness that was pulling him down earlier seemed to have evaporated in the wake of the tingling sensations rippling across his body.

Hands gripped his hips firmly as Aizen trailed kisses up Grimmjow’s torso, pausing just long enough to lick the edge of the void again. The espada let out a low moan before he could stop himself. A memory of the heat the had nearly incinerated him rose and stole what was left of his thoughts. There was nothing left but sensation. He could swear that Aizen was using his spiritual pressure to caress him. He wasn’t sure how that was possible but the feeling was incredible. The small, rational voice in his head was sputtering something about not giving in but Grimmjow ignored it. Screw that.

Aizen had reached his throat and was sucking hard at the skin over his collarbone. That would leave a mark. An obvious one. But again, Grimmjow ignored the voice that was telling him how bad that was. He found himself incredibly turned on by the situation for some reason. Aizen was always so controlled, so aloof. But there was none of that now as the former soul reaper sucked greedily at his skin. Grimmjow let his lips pull into a smirk. Nobody else could do this. Nobody else could bring their lord nearly to his knees. He wasn’t sure how he knew that. It wasn’t just Shawlong’s observations. It went deeper and he knew it instinctively, for lack of a better word.

“You seem much more receptive than usual tonight.” Aizen pulled back a little, his eyes still a little hazy with what looked like some serious arousal. Grimmjow growled a little and shifted on the bed. But Aizen caught his hands and pinned them on either side of his head before he could move away. “Or not.” But he didn’t seem put off by the thought of a little resistance as he leaned over the captured arrancar. Grimmjow’s lip curled.

“I won’t play games. Don’t think for a moment that I’m not really fighting you.” But even as he said it, he knew that wasn’t true. It was a game. Just not the same one that he thought they’d been playing all this time. It was more visceral and complex than that. Grimmjow blinked and felt a stab of apprehension. Damn, he was treading a fine line here. The tension of it thrummed along his skin and he fought not to twist his hands in Aizen‘s grip. Despite his newfound revelations, he couldn’t let himself forget who he was or what he could do. 

“You’ll fight even though you know you’ll lose one way or the other?”

Grimmjow snorted. “I can’t be anything but what I am.” Which was true. And part of him relaxed as it sank in. He would always fight. Not necessarily out of a desire to escape but because that’s what he would do because that’s who he was. And it appeared that Aizen didn’t expect more or less than that. For some reason, that was a comforting thought.

There was a quiet pause as Aizen considered Grimmjow’s words for a moment. “I honestly wouldn’t have you any other way.” Aizen watched him for a moment more before leaning in closer. He held Grimmjow’s eyes as he brought their lips together. Despite the relative softness of the kiss, he thrust his tongue into the espada’s mouth. Grimmjow groaned as his own tongue was pressed down and ruthlessly stroked. He twisted his body, unable to hold still under the onslaught. When he was finally allowed up for air, his breaths were coming in quick pants. It was eerily similar to when he’d been drugged. But there was no narcotic swimming in his system provoking his reactions. Only the man pressing him into the mattress.

“You’re awfully pliant for someone who’s supposedly fighting.”

Grimmjow jerked his hands and snarled. Not that he really wanted to get away. He’d already admitted that. But it didn’t mean he wouldn’t try or at least make it look that way. If Aizen really wanted him, let that bastard work for it. He let out a small gasp as he was flipped over onto his stomach. Hands pressed against his back and held him down. No matter how much he tried to push himself up, he couldn’t quite overcome the other’s strength. But Aizen didn’t tie him down with his power as he started to undress him. He only used the strength of his hands to keep Grimmjow in place. The espada growled quietly but it wasn’t really an angry sound. It was more like anticipation. 

His hakama were pulled down and he groaned as the fabric dragged between his body and the mattress where it was pinned. Aizen stayed kneeling above him as he tossed the fabric away and then started to take his own clothes off. Grimmjow could feel the teasing trail of the garments on his back and this thighs. He shuddered uncontrollably at the softness of the touch. There was another quiet chuckle from above him. Grimmjow tried to roll over onto his back but a firm hand pressed between his shoulder blades and held him still. A growl rolled low in his throat and the fingers dug in slightly alongside his spine. He shifted on the mattress as Aizen knelt on the rounded curve of his ass. He brought his other hand up to join the first.

The arrancar groaned as the other man began to methodically massage his muscles. He’d never really had anyone’s hands on him when it wasn’t part of a fight before. And his past interludes with Aizen had all been rather quick. This was the first time that the soul reaper actually seemed to show any sign of restraint. The fingers flexed against his back and Grimmjow let out a deep sigh, letting his arms lay loosely beside his head. He had to admit that this felt really good. But he wondered idly at his own change in mood. When Aizen had first shown interest in him, he would have fought to the death to avoid this. Why wasn’t it bothering him now?

A slow pulse of power along his spine made his body jerk and he let out a low grunt. But in the wake of the unexpected flare, his muscles turned to jelly, allowing Aizen to dig deeper with his hands. His whole body was relaxing and it made Grimmjow realize just how tense he was on a regular basis. Had he ever been this loose and limber before? He took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. A low rumbling sound made them both pause. After a moment, Aizen laughed, the sound amused and slightly condescending. 

“You like that, Kitten?” The purr degenerated into a growl and Grimmjow rolled onto his back. Or at least he tried to. He only managed to make it onto his side before Aizen pinned him down again. His right leg was lifted up and braced against Aizen’s shoulder as the soul reaper leaned in over him. And then he was pushing his already hardened length into Grimmjow’s body. The arrancar let out a strangled moan. He tried not to tense up against the intrusion but it was difficult to concentrate. There was another pulse of power, this time on the inside and his eyes nearly crossed. 

The odd, sideways position allowed Aizen to thrust in at a different angle than he’d used before. With a deep push, he reached a spot that had Grimmjow mewling like the feline Aizen had mentioned just moments before. Did he hate himself for giving in? Not really. And not just because he didn’t currently have the available brain power to really comprehend his decision. This definitely was a decision. A conscious one to allow this. Even though he would have lost, he could have fought tooth and nail and made it as difficult as possible. Perhaps it was a weakness to let the sensations carry him away. Right now, he just didn’t care.

Grimmjow had no real illusions that he held any power over the Lord of Las Noches. This wouldn’t change anything. The others already treated him differently so that would be no different. Not that he was going to go out and brag about this. Nor would Aizen. No, he’d keep it to himself. Another wave of pleasure made thinking difficult for a few moments. His own neglected length was grasped by skilled fingers, their calloused pads kneading lightly against the sensitive skin. Grimmjow’s breath was reduced to heavy panting as Aizen picked up his pace. 

Would the other man grow board with him eventually? Maybe. But he didn’t really think so. Aizen’s attention had always been drawn to him for one reason or another. Grimmjow had always attributed it to his constant insubordination but maybe it was something else. He let out another low, groaning purr as he felt himself climbing to release. If that was the case, then there had always been something between them. He snorted lightly and started to laugh a little even as pleasure was nearly making him go blind.

“You, ah, find something amusing?” Aizen’s voice held a hint of strain for the first time Grimmjow could remember. The hand on his length tightened in what might have been a threat. Grimmjow’s lip curled in a small smirk as he shook his head and arched his neck as climax took them both. 

“N-no, Aizennnn. . .” The last syllable was draw out long, wheezing breath as Grimmjow came.

“What was that?” Aizen continued to move even after he’d emptied himself into the quivering espada. He showed no signs of wilting or slowing down. Grimmjow took a few panting breaths, knowing that he couldn’t pull himself away even if he wanted to.

“No, Aizen.”

“I didn’t quite hear the last part.”

Grimmjow turned his head to glare, his body jerking in time to the other man’s thrusts. Their eyes met and they stared for several moments as they had a small battle of wills. Grimmjow nearly laughed again but held it in. Instead, he lowered his head a little as if acknowledging Aizen. 

“No, Aizen-sama.” When the honorific left his lips, Grimmjow contracted his muscles and drew the other man deeper inside him making him come again unexpectedly. Aizen’s eyes widened a little and they both moaned in unison. Grimmjow might pay for that in the end, but seeing the surprise on the other man’s face had been more than worth it. Grimmjow just let himself fall back limply as all movement slowed to a stop. They watched each other in the aftermath, as if searching for something. After a while, they seemed to come to some sort of unspoken agreement and Aizen set Grimmjow’s leg back down on the bed and lay down behind him. He drew the espada back against his body and nuzzled his neck. Both of them let out a relatively contented sigh.

Where would they go from here? Grimmjow still didn’t like playing in such subtle ways. There was something much more satisfying about direct confrontations. A small smile pulled at his lips. But then they’d just done that. Grimmjow found himself drifting to sleep. Strangely, he didn’t really mind the warmth of the other man against his back. Aizen had pulled the blankets up over both of them and his breathing had slowed. But he wasn’t under. Grimmjow didn’t think he’d allow himself to be that vulnerable even around him. But it meant something that he chose to stay instead of just leaving as he had in the past. Maybe Aizen had been just as wound up and tense as Grimmjow. It was hard to say since few ever got a glimpse at what he was really feeling. If at all. 

Grimmjow was nudged awake slightly as Aizen murmured into his neck. “Do that again.”

“Hmmm?” Again? Now? The man was damn near insatiable. Grimmjow shifted his body slightly and he frowned a little. From the feel of things, even Aizen wasn’t ready to go again yet. There was a brush of lips against the nape of his neck before the soul reaper laughed quietly. 

“Not that.”

Grimmjow blinked for a moment and then he grinned. “What if I said I have no control over it?”

“Have I ever told you that you can’t lie to me?” Out of context, the words might have sounded threatening. But they didn’t sound that way with the amused tone of voice Aizen was using. Grimmjow took a deep breath and let it out in a purring huff. The low rumble continued somewhere high in his chest after that. Not that he’d done it on command or anything. And that’s the story that Grimmjow would stick to.

“I haven’t heard that since the day you became an arrancar.” Aizen’s words were strangely subdued. And then he let out a quiet chuckle. “I had to have you sedated just so you’d hold still long enough. And by then you were nuzzling my hand like a housecat.”

Grimmjow’s purring took on a low growling edge but he didn’t show any other signs of agitation. Ignoring Aizen’s laughter, he let himself drift. He could get indignant and insulted if he wanted to, but instead he just let himself go.


End file.
